


Ember:  Half-Demon, Half-Human

by siriusenigma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Minor References to Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-01-20 19:48:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 84
Words: 327,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21287210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusenigma/pseuds/siriusenigma
Summary: This is cross-posted from Fanfiction.net.Ember is half-demon and half-human. The good news is, she can become invisible, and also possesses the power of telekinesis. The bad news is, she attracts demons and angels - literally. When her powers begin to increase for an unknown reason, Ember seeks out her estranged father, Bobby Singer. The Winchesters won't know what hit them.
Relationships: Castiel (Supernatural)/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	1. Lazarus Rising

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the beginning of Season 4, after Dean is pulled from hell. It is mostly canon, with the insertion of my OC. It is funny, but not in a "crack" sort of way. It is sexy, but not in a "smut" sort of way. It does have dark undertones & implications, but there is no character death other than what is canon, and said dark undertones are not graphic. That being said, I don't own Supernatural. If I did, I'd capture Castiel and put him in a little bottle like my own personal sexy genie.

***Ember POV***

September 18, Late afternoon

Ember Nelson looked around the quiet South Dakota neighborhood, smiling slightly. All was peaceful, and nobody was watching. Slowly, she used her eyes to guide the keys out of her pocket and into the lock, forcing the door open, her hands full of groceries and her purse and backpack. Telekinesis was a wonderful thing sometimes, she thought. She had to be careful, but at moments like this, it was extremely helpful.

She had just guided the keys out of the lock when without warning, strong hands went around her, and a knife was held to her throat. “Who are you?” a deep voice commanded.

Ember took a second to react, then dropped her groceries and called upon the use of the second power she possessed: invisibility. Her attacker let her go, shocked, and whirled around with his knife, putting his back to the wall. Ember, meanwhile, backed up to the opposite wall. “Who the hell are _you_?!”

An old man came careening into the room, then, yelling, “Shut it, ya idgits! Ember, is that you?”

“Yeah Bobby, it’s me,” Ember responded, still invisible, as her attacker looked around wildly, “Will you tell this lunatic to lay off!”

There was a moment of silence before, finally, her attacker looked at the older man and lowered his knife, looking dubious. Ember showed herself, staring daggers at the man.

The elder man, Bobby, sighed. “Dean, meet my daughter.”

Dean spun around toward the old man, hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “Your _what?!”_

At the same time, Ember shouted, “_Dean?_ Bobby, I thought you said he was in _hell?” _Ember fished for the revolver she carried in her purse, feeling its handle just in case.

“It’s complicated,” Bobby snapped, answering both questions at once.

“Start talking,” Dean snapped, and Ember noticed that he had still not let go of his knife, either.

“I couldn’t tell you about her,” Bobby said, looking first at Dean and then at Ember. “And I didn’t have _time _to tell you about him. He _just _came back.” Neither Dean nor Ember had let go of their weapon.

“What do you mean you couldn’t tell me?” Dean exclaimed.

Ember knew the answer to this question. “My mother made him promise not to tell anyone about me. It’s because I’m half-demon,” she answered. She hated long dramatic build-ups. Better to get the violence out of the way, if it was going to happen.

Dean’s face looked for a second as though he might burst into laughter, as though this was all a big prank. Then he seemed to decide that Bobby was being serious, and he started toward Ember, knife raised. Bobby shot him a warning look, which stopped him in his tracks, however. Dean then shot an angry look at Bobby, and his jaw worked up and down a few times. Finally, he exploded. “What the hell, Bobby?! I’m in Hell for four months and you’re suddenly harboring a half-demon _daughter? _What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Shut up and listen up, ya idgit! It’s not what you think, and if you go after my daughter I swear to God I’ll send you straight back to Hell.”

Dean glared at Bobby, stowing his knife but keeping his hand on it. “Start talking.”

Bobby looked at Ember. “Now, hold on a second,” she snapped at Bobby. “Why do I have to do the talking first? You could be putting me in danger here, too. How did he get out of Hell? Did you ‘holy water’ him?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise.

“Yup.”

“Prove it.” Dean looked even more surprised, and his hand slipped an infinitesimal amount away from his knife. He caught her looking, however, and rearranged his features back into a glare.

“Fine,” Bobby sighed, rolling his eyes and grabbing the water from a nearby table. He shook his head sarcastically. “We’ll all do holy water, and we’ll all use a salted knife, and then we’re gonna sit down and talk, _without_ our weapons.” Dean and Ember both stared at each other venomously.

They passed around the holy water, and the knife, Ember ignoring the curious look on Dean’s face. Finally, it seemed he couldn’t take it anymore. “Isn’t that gonna hurt, demon?” he taunted her.

Ember rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s gonna hurt, ‘ya thick-headed moron,” she snapped. “Nobody loves knifing themselves. But I’m only half-demon, so it’ll just sting a bit. And the water just tickles.”

When they were finished, Bobby gestured to the sofa. “Sit. Talk.”

Dean sat on one sofa, and Ember on the other. Both of their hands were away from their weapons now, but both were still alert if needed.

“I’m half-demon, half human,” Ember started. “Bobby and my mother dated for awhile. She got possessed. You can figure out the rest. I got lucky though. Powers didn’t hit until puberty. Life was… I don’t know, normal? Compared to what it is now, life was normal.”

Dean’s glare had lessened slightly, and he was listening raptly. “My powers started showing up when I was a teenager, so Mom got ahold of Bobby. Mom made Bobby promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone – especially any other hunters – about me.”

She stared Dean in the face, imploringly. Dean had to believe her, if only for Bobby’s sake. “Bobby’s told me all about you, though. And Dean – _if _that’s who you really are, and _if _you did make it back from Hell – you should know, I’ve never killed anyone. Hosts I’ve killed, if that counts. Only a couple of times, before Bobby taught me the exorcism. But I’ve always been really careful not to let my demon side have any power over me.”

Dean looked at Bobby for confirmation of this statement, and Bobby nodded. After a thoughtful pause, Dean said dubiously, “Okay… okay, fine. Say that’s true. What powers do you have, then?” Ember could tell from his tone that he was still pretty sure that she was evil, but was willing to continue to listen for Bobby’s sake.

“Invisibility, obviously.” She rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, it’s still not helpful when it comes to demons, because they can smell me. They can’t pinpoint my exact location if I’m invisible, though, so I guess that’s helpful. Bobby says it would work against ghosts, though, but vampires and werewolves would be able to smell me unless I mask my scent.” Ember took a large breath. “And… and telekinesis. Useless on humans, though, until… well, until recently. I can unlock doors, pull weeds without touching them, that kind of thing. Party tricks.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows at Ember, and Ember looked away. Dean didn’t have to know everything… yet. 

“You said until recently?” Dean asked, still staring at her with doubt.

Ember sighed. “In the last month or so, I’ve gotten… stronger.” She gave an uncomfortable squirm. “You have to understand, my powers showed up when I was 13, and stopped changing around the time I was about 19. They’ve been the same for five years now. It was… I mean, it was good fun, mostly. A little bit of practical joking with the help of my invisibility, and the telekinesis really came in handy when I messed up my wrist.” Bobby was looking at her again with a raised eyebrow, but she ignored him.

“Then, just… out of the blue… suddenly I’m able to push and pull humans, and move around dogs and cats. And… and I can fly. Well, I mean, it’s more like… I can levitate, short distances, so I guess it’s more like… soaring.” She looked up, smiling slightly. “That part is kind of cool. But it’s scary, too. Suddenly it’s…” she gave Dean a nervous glance. “It’s not just party tricks anymore. And I don’t know what’s different. So… I called up Bobby.”

Dean’s glare had changed to a look of curiousity. Ember got the impression from him that he was willing to put his hatred of her being half-demon on hold to solve the mystery. It was exactly how Bobby had always described him, she thought: impulsive, but curious and hungry for the next case, and always lethal. It was obvious he still didn’t trust her, but perhaps was willing to put off killing her for Bobby’s sake until he knew he had to do so. “So… fine. Say you’re telling the truth. I’ve never heard of a half-demon before, but why the hell not? So your powers just… started growing last month, for no apparent reason? You didn’t… have any new experiences? You didn’t meet any new _friends_?”

Ember rolled her eyes, knowing what he meant to imply. “I haven’t been cavorting with any demons, if that’s what you’re asking. My powers scared the daylights out of me when I was younger, and since then I’ve been very careful not to let them get the better of me. Until recently, I lived a normal life. I’m a therapist, for kids. I just finished grad school, and two months ago I got my first therapy job.”

Dean looked absolutely shocked, and Ember grinned proudly. She could tell that this piece of information, more than anything else, had knocked him off his guard. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to worry about him killing her in her sleep after all. “Not what you were expecting? A half-demon therapist doesn’t fit in your monster-related descriptions?”

Apparently Dean had nothing to say to that.

***Dean POV***

September 18, Night

After escaping from Hell, Dean had thought about 5 things: Hell itself (including what he had experienced while he had been there, and how he had been brought back), Sam, Bobby, food and drink, and sex. (Sleep, ironically, hadn’t been high on the list. Apparently whoever had brought him back had at least given him some energy.) Food and drink had been the first thing checked off the list, and Bobby seemed okay. Sam was next on the list.

Ember had asked to accompany Dean and Bobby to Pontiac, Illinois to find Sam. Dean was still wary of her, however he had decided to let her live for the time being. This was partially due to her story being plausible (as long as the facts checked out – and he would be checking), partially due to Bobby’s good word, and partially due to his own curiousity about her powers increasing. Could this be related to them letting all the demons out of Hell over a year ago? No, that wouldn’t make sense – she’d said her powers had increased within the last month. It wasn’t as though he was exactly “in the know” about happenings in the supernatural world, however – after all, he’d spent the past four months in Hell.

Bobby was in favor of the idea of Ember coming along to find Sam, however, and as Sam had the Impala and they would be taking Bobby’s car, Dean didn’t have much of a choice. Therefore, Dean begrudgingly slid into the back seat of Bobby’s junk car, allowing Ember to ride shotgun while Bobby drove. “Thanks for letting me tag along,” she said. “I know Bobby never told you about me… that was my mother’s decision. The less people know about me, the better.”

“Hmph,” he answered, distracted. 

“But I’ve heard stories about you and Sam for awhile now,” Ember said again, “and I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

Ember threw her small back-pack on the seat next to Dean, and he looked up at her questioningly. The backpack couldn’t have been large enough to hold more than one pair of pants and a shirt. “I have to pack light,” she said, following his eye. “I don’t have the money to pay for plane rides, so I go invisible. That’s how I got to Bobby’s. I feel kind of bad about the free plane rides. But, I figure the people who pay for the plane don’t have to worry about-…” she stopped, then finished, “um, about keeping their crazy demon side in check. So, I guess this is the plus side of being half-demon. At least, that’s how I justify it to myself.” She smiled.

As Bobby climbed into the driver’s seat, it occurred to Dean that he was starting to feel like he may have been a dick. He had called Ember “demon” earlier and mocked her about the holy water and the salt knife, and yet she was worried about taking advantage of people with her invisibility and spending money on plane rides. Hell, if he could become invisible, he would steal… well, a lot of money, for starters. And, he admitted, he would probably spend a lot of time in girls’ locker rooms. He had a sinking feeling she had never used her invisibility to spy on naked people. Honestly, for a half-demon, she seemed a bit like a goody two-shoes. Still, he could tell she was hiding something, so perhaps she wasn’t as goody-two-shoes as she let on. Or, he thought, perhaps being a goody-two-shoes on the surface of things was simply how she kept her half-demon side in check.

As the car ride progressed even further, Dean was forced to admit that he was viewing Ember as less and less of a threat the more time he spent with her. It wasn’t a sense of mutual respect, like he’d had with the demon called Casey when they’d been trapped in the basement (although there was that, too). The fact was that Dean simply couldn’t find anything demonic about this half-demon girl. She talked excitedly about her work with her clients, and about her friends back home. He also couldn’t deny that Ember was good looking; she was tall, with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes. She was smart, witty, and sarcastic. She knew most of the same classic rock songs he did, though she had an appreciation for all types of music, and even played him a few songs that he had never heard before (but liked). There was also something very simple about her; she was the kind of girl that was obviously most comfortable in jeans and a tank top, and there was something wholly attractive about that. He wondered briefly if Ember might be up for the “sex” part of his post-Hell bucket list, but it quickly occurred to him that her being Bobby’s daughter would definitely complicate the situation. In addition, he attempted to convince himself, “half-demon” was definitely on his “nope” list for sexual conquests.

At some point, Dean switched seats with Bobby, who then fell asleep in the back seat, leaving him alone to make conversation with her. “How are you getting back home?” he asked after they had exhausted their discussion about classic rock songs. “Actually… where is home for you, anyway?”

“You saved me the trip,” she answered. “I only live a couple of hours east of Pontiac. Once this thing is done with Sam, would you mind dropping me off?”

“Depends on how it goes,” Dean said honestly, “But… probably.” He still didn’t like how easily he had grown to feel comfortable around her, but at this point he was invested enough to give her the benefit of the doubt. Beside the point, she was Bobby’s daughter, and he was obviously protective of her. Dean supposed that alone ought to make her family. One thing was for certain: whether he was thinking of her as family or as a beautiful woman, he was beginning to think that his first impression had been less than ideal.

“Thanks,” Ember said. “Planes are cheap – for me at least – but they really blow. Unless there are a couple seats in a row with nobody in them, I’m stuck camping out with the baggage. It gets crowded, and no matter how much I try, I always get hit with a suitcase at least once.”

Eventually, the conversation turned to childhood. Ember talked a lot about her early life, which seemed unremarkable compared to his. She also asked all kinds of questions about hunting. She wanted to know all about his adventures with vampires, werewolves, and ghosts – all things that Bobby had talked about, but which she’d never run into herself. After awhile, Dean found himself almost bragging to her. It occurred to him that he very rarely got an opportunity to talk about his job with people who believed in and understood it, and even less so to a beautiful woman. He couldn’t help showing off a bit: “I really like the dream world that the Djinn put me in. I thought it was the perfect life, you know, until I started seeing the newspaper clippings, and looked into it farther. Everyone we had saved – all 108 people on that plane, and the girl Sam liked with the painting, and everyone – they all would’ve died without Sammy and I.” 

Ember wanted to know all about rugarus and vanirs and werewolves, and Dean was happy to discuss them. Slowly, he began to remember who he was before Hell – before Alastair, before the torture. Finally, he asked about her experience with demons, and was surprised at her answer: “I’ve exorcised 31 demons, and killed 4 hosts.” She said it in a monotone and not looking him in the eye, as though she didn’t want to discuss it.

“What are you doing to attract these demons?” Dean asked. “I didn’t realize Indiana doubled as a demon hub.”

She shrugged, still averting her eyes, but her posture turned icy somehow. “Don’t know. They just always seem to find me,” she said evasively.

Dean changed the subject, and he and Ember spent a fair amount of time discussing the mysterious growth of Ember’s powers. Ember confessed that her biggest concern was that she was becoming “more demon-like”. “I don’t feel any darker,” she said. “I mean, I don’t have, you know, more of an urge to murder people, or whatever, since my power grew. Still, I feel like the cosmic gods of the universe, or whoever is out there in control, would take issue with me gaining all of these powers and not paying a price somewhere.”

“So don’t use the powers,” Dean said, “At least not the newer ones.”

“It’s not that simple,” Ember said, shaking her head. “I need them, to defend myself, if nothing else. Of those demons exorcised, 10 of the exorcisms were in the last month alone. Half-demons are rare, and apparently in high demand.” She sighed. “That’s how I found out my power was increasing in the first place, actually. I mean, it’s not like I have a ton of time to go out into a field and test my new powers like some bad movie montage.”

Dean laughed shortly, shooting her a sideways glance. Somehow it was difficult to imagine this lanky, witty, therapist girl killing even one demon, much less overpowering 10 of them in the last month. Then, without realizing he was doing it, he asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to chill with us for awhile? We can offer protection.” As soon as he had said it, he already wished he hadn’t. What was he thinking? Offering protection to a half-demon?

Ember shook her head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ve got shit to do. I can take care of myself, really.”

***Ember POV***

September 19, Early morning

Finally, after a long drive, Dean, Ember, and Bobby arrived in Pontiac, IL and knocked on room 207. Ember knew immediately that the woman who answered the door was a demon. There was a small look exchanged by both women, very quickly, which included recognition and panic. Ember was just about to raise her weapon when the demon woman said, “So where is it?”

“Where’s what?” Bobby asked.

“The pizza?” Ember was stunned into silence. She’d never encountered a demon that didn’t immediately come after her in an attack or sexual fashion. She honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I think we got the wrong room,” Dean said.

A tall man showed up behind the demon girl, however, and gave Dean a look as though he had seen a ghost. “Hey ya, Sammy,” Dean said. And then the two brothers began fighting. During their fight, Ember turned to the demon woman, putting up her arms in a defensive stance, and prepared for a fight. The demon woman, however, took one look at Ember and ran back down the hallway.

***Dean POV***

September 19, Noon

Sam took to Ember a lot easier than Dean did, which, if he was honest, pissed him off. “It doesn’t bother you? You know, that I showed up with Bobby and his half-demon daughter?” Dean could just make her out in Bobby’s car in front of the Impala, speaking animatedly with Bobby from the passenger seat. They were on the way to Pam’s, Bobby’s psyhic friend, and Ember had been eager, yet again, to come along.

“So she’s half-demon, so what?” Sam said, once again stationed in the passenger seat of the Impala. “The way you tell it, she’s a therapist who feels bad about not paying for plane tickets. Not exactly threatening, is it?” Sam smiled, squinting ahead into the distance. “Not bad looking, either, is she?”

“Dude! She’s like… half demon.” Dean laughed at his brother. “Not that that makes a difference to you… apparently _you_ just slept with a _full_ demon.” 

“Man, shut _up_, okay? I had no idea!”

“Dude, you should’ve seen the look on your face when Ember told you!” Dean laughed at Sam. His mood was beginning to lighten. He was out of Hell, and he had found his brother. 

“C’mon, man, she never said anything about being a demon. But maybe it’s like Ruby said last year, you know? Maybe not all demons want the same thing.”

“Yeah, and _this_ one wanted to test out the once-possible fearless demon leader in the sack,” said Dean. “Hey Sammy, was the sex different? Like, did she fuck you on the ceiling or something?”

“Dude! No, she was just like a normal girl.”

“Shame,” Dean said. “I bet that’d be hot.”

Sam squinted into the darkness, following Dean’s gaze into the car in front of them, where they could see Ember’s head bobbing to the music. “This Ember girl… Do you… do you _like_ her?!”

“Dude! It’s not like that. She’s hot, that’s all.” When Sam didn’t seem satisfied, Dean added, “C’mon, how cool would that be? Sex with an invisible chick than can levitate?”

Sam laughed. “My brother and a half-demon… never would’ve thought it.” He laughed again. “Can you imagine what Bobby would say?”

Dean laughed, too. “I was kidding, anyway.” He paused. “Wait. Do you mean… what Bobby would say about me hooking up with a half-demon, or me hooking up with his daughter?”

They both laughed at this, and he watched Sam relax in the passenger’s seat. It occurred to Dean in that moment that, for the first time in four months (or forty years, in actual time), he felt like he wanted to survive another day. 

***Dean POV***

September 20, Daytime

Dean had to admit it; he would be sorry to see Ember go back home. Realistically, he didn’t know when they would see each other again, though he could be fairly certain that they _would_ see her again. Now that he and Sam knew about her, they would definitely be checking in on her, if she didn’t contact them first.

Castiel – whoever he was – had blinded Pam, but Ember had barely seemed phased by it. She had definitely been concerned, he thought, but not as shaken as he had expected her to be. Still, she seemed stony and distant, particulary when they stopped at a small diner on the way back to her apartment.

“We got a name – Castiel, or whatever,” Dean told Sam over coffee. “With the right mumbo jumbo, we could summon him, bring him right to us.”

“You’re crazy. Absolutely not,” said Sam. Dean looked at Ember, but her eyes were on the waitress.

“We’ll work him over. I mean, after what he did?”

“Pam took a peek at him, and her eyes burned out of her skull,” Sam replied, “And you want to have a face-to-face?”

“Have you got a better idea?” Dean asked, glancing again at Ember, who was being awfully quiet. With a start, he realized that one of the men in the back of the room was staring at Ember… and she was staring back, a weary but resigned look on her face.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I do!” Sam said. “I followed some demons to town, right?”

“Okay,” Dean said. He wasn’t really paying attention to Sam anymore, however. He realized that two men in the corner were heading toward the table staring right at Ember, and the waitress seemed to be making a beeline toward the table as well.

“So we go find them,” Sam finished.

“You won’t have to look far,” Ember jumped in suddenly, once again eyeing the waitress, who sat down at the table, flashing black eyes at the three of them. Dean shot a look toward Sam, who had also identified the waitress’ eyes. This was not good. This was very, _very_ not good. He inched his hand toward his demon knife.

“Dean… to Hell and back. Aren’t you a lucky duck?” the waitress said to the three of them. Dean saw, out of the corner of his eye, one of the men lock the door of the bar behind them.

“That’s me,” he said.

“So you get to just stroll out of the pit, huh?” the demon waitress said. “Tell me, what makes you so special?” 

Dean was also very aware of the two men, both eyeing Ember. He didn’t like the way they were looking at her. “I like to think it’s because of my perky nipples,” he replied. “I don’t know. It wasn’t my doing. I don’t know who pulled me out.”

“Right, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” he replied forcefully. The men were still looking at Ember.

“Lying’s a sin you know,” the demon waitress continued. 

“I’m not lying. But I’d like to find out, so if you wouldn’t mind enlightening me, _Flo_.”

“Mind your tone with me, boy,” she replied. “I’ll drag you back to Hell myself.”

He called her bluff. “No you won’t.”

“No?”

“No. ‘Cause if you were, you’d have done it already. Fact is, you don’t know who cut me loose. You’re just as spooked as we are. You’re looking for answers.” He paused. “Well, maybe it was some turbocharged spirit, hmm? Or maybe uh… Godzilla. Or some big bad boss demon.” He was scaring her, he could tell. _We actually might get out of this diner alive, after all, _he thought. “But I’m guessing at your pay grade, they don’t tell you squat. ‘Cause whoever it was, they _want_ me out. And they’re a lot stronger than you.” _Now, to finish the threat, _Dean thought. “So go ahead. Send me back. But don’t come crawling to me when they show up on your front doorstep with some vaseline and a firehose.” Then, slowly, glaring at the waitress and the other demons, Dean, Sam, and Ember got up to leave.

They almost made it, too. The three of them almost made it out of that diner, with no fight, just a stalemate confrontation. Instead, just as they were about to leave, all three of them keeping an eye on the three demons, one of the men said, “Wait.”

“What?” Dean snapped.

“You two can go… we don’t want any trouble. Leave the girl.”

“Why?” Sam snapped.

“I like her smell.”

“She’s half-demon, isn’t she?” the other man filled in. “I’ve never seen a half-demon like her. And I saw her first.” And he made to grab for Ember.

Dean and Sam both pulled their weapons, but Ember got there first. Her revolver was in one hand threateningly, and her other hand was out, pushing at the air, which seemed to be keeping the second man at bay, though barely. Then, to Dean’s astonishment, she began an exorcism. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”

The woman launched herself at Ember, but was blocked by Sam, who rolled with her to the other side of the room. The other man also attempted to launch himself at Ember, but instead met with Dean’s demon knife, and keeled over onto one of the tables.

“Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis, adversarii, omnis legio…”

Sam was struggling with the woman, and Ember seemed to be managing herself, so Dean launched himself forward to help Sam.

“Omnis congregatio, et secta diabolica!” Two clouds of black smoke fled from the room, and Ember keeled over onto the floor.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Thanks for your help,” Ember whispered, once the three of them had begun the journey back to Indiana in the Impala.

“No problem,” Dean said, “It’s what we’re here for.” His mind was reeling. What had just happened? The demons had been willing to let Sam and Dean go, but they wanted Ember? Why?

“You attract them, don’t you?” Sam asked suddenly, and Dean’s brain came to a screeching halt as he tried to follow what Sam was saying.

“Yes,” Ember whispered from the backseat. “I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but they seem to be able to sense me from… I don’t know, for sure up to a football field away. I get… followed, you know? So I try to stay out of crowded places, but eventually I decided… that’s no way to live my life.”

“That’s why you’ve run into so many lately, isn’t it?” asked Sam slowly. “A couple of years ago, we – well, a bunch of demons were let out of Hell at once. And lately, with your powers growing… the attraction grows, too?”

Ember nodded.

“Holy shit,” Dean said, his brain finally clunking into place. He couldn’t imagine. She wasn’t just powerful, and she wasn’t just half-demon. No, she was a beacon, a literal beacon for unwanted demon attention. No wonder she hated demons so much! He couldn’t imagine anything more absolutely horrible.

“I’m sorry,” Sam was saying.

“Ember, are you sure you don’t want to come stay with us?” Dean asked.

Ember smiled sadly. “I appreciate the offer, but I have a life of my own back in Indiana. I’ve come to terms with this life, with what I am, so as soon as I figure out why my powers are increasing, I should be fine.”

Sam sighed. “If you’re sure. Look… our door, and Bobby’s door, is always open. If you ever need help, with anything, or just… I don’t know, just want to come along with us or something… give us a call, okay?”

Ember smiled wryly. “I might just do that, actually. As scary as this weekend was, I can’t deny that it’s been fun. My normal life is stressful, but this has definitely been an adrenaline rush of a different kind.” She sighed. “Not just that, but… you guys can use me.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Ember continued, “I know what they say about hunting, that if you’re involved with demons and hunting that it’s your whole life and you can never leave it. And I’m not ready for that yet, and my mother certainly isn’t. But… Bobby tells me from time to time what you guys are up against. You’ve seen my powers, and my guess is that there will come a time when you need me on your side.”

Dean nodded, shooting a look at Sam.

“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay against this… Castiel?” Ember continued. “I can take a couple of days off work, if you need…”

Dean shook his head. “I have the advantage: he wants me alive, obviously.” He could tell that the fact that she attracted demons was very troubling to her – or, at least it had been troubling, at one point. It occurred to him that she was a lot like him – troubled, with a really messed up position in life, and managing to bury it down. He hadn’t seen any alcohol or cigarettes, so perhaps she was practicing what she preached and keeping herself sane with the whole “I’m a therapist” thing. Still, he mused, anyone who could make it through this past weekend and still want to spend time with them couldn’t be completely right in the head. This was definitely too much thinking for him.

“Fair point,” Ember was saying. “Just promise me you’ll let me know when you find Castiel, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Dean said genuinely. “I promise, I’ll call you.”

Ember giggled, Sam elbowed him in the ribs, and Dean realized a second too late exactly what he had said. 

***Ember POV***

September 30, Evening

One week later, Ember was finishing up some work when she got an important phone call. “Hey, Ember, it’s Sam,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “Hold on, I’m going to put you on speaker phone, so Dean can hear too. Bobby’s here with us, too.”

“Hey,” Dean said in his very flirty voice.

“Hello Ember,” said Bobby.

Ember knew that if all 3 of them were calling her at once, it definitely wasn’t good news. “What’s up, guys?”

“Well, we think we might’ve figured out why your powers have been increasing,” Bobby said.

“And you’re not gonna like it,” added Sam.

Ember sighed. “Okay, just hit me with it.”

“Well, over the past few days, a hell of a lot hunters have met their ends to the ghosts of the people they couldn’t save,” Bobby said. “And we almost did, too. And after awhile, we realized we were dealing with the rising of the witnesses.”

Ember dropped the phone in her surprise. She felt a sharp swoop in her stomach. When she picked it back up, she heard Dean’s voice “…doesn’t know what that means, Bobby?”

“I told you, boy, that girl’s done more research about demons than you two put together. She knows what it means.”

“Bobby, tell me you’re kidding me,” Ember demanded.

“I’m sorry Ember, it looks like it’s true,” Bobby said.

Ember sighed, and sat down on her bed. Her head felt like it was going to explode, and she could feel a panic attack of epic porportions coming on. “Okay, tell me what you know,” she said.

“Castiel came to me last night,” Dean said. (Dean had called Ember and explained about Castiel in their last phone call, almost a week ago now.)

“And he didn’t even wake me up!” said Sam’s voice.

“Ah, shut up,” said Dean. “Anyway, Cas told us Bobby’s theory was right… the rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals. Lilith, one of the oldest demons, is in the process of breaking the seals, and when 66 of them are broken-…”

“Lucifer is free,” filled in Ember.

“So you already know all this?” Dean asked.

“I’m half demon and a bookworm,” Ember snapped. “I make it my business to know the lore. But I didn’t know it could actually _happen._”

“Yeah, Cas says that’s why angels have arrived back on Earth in the first place,” Dean said. “Shame. They’re huge pricks, from what I can tell.”

“You’re out of Hell though,” Sam pointed out.

Ember’s head was spinning. “Guys… did Castiel say how many seals have been broken? Or for how long Lilith has been breaking seals?”

“No,” Sam said. “But we thought… it can’t have been that long, or else we would’ve heard about it. I mean, from what we’ve been able to gather, we’re some of the first hunters to realize this is going on. You said your powers have been increasing for about a month, right?”

“Yeah,” Ember admitted. “Nearly two months now.”

“Well, that would make sense,” said Bobby. “Demon power draws on Lucifer. And half-demons are supposed to be _really_ powerful, only…”

“I’ve chosen not to give in to the dark side, yeah,” said Ember.

“So it _isn’t_ safe for her to use her new powers then,” said Dean.

“No, I keep telling you,” Bobby said. “I’m pretty sure it’s safe for her to use the _non-evil_ powers for _non-evil _purposes.”

“As long as she’s not doing anything demonic, she should be okay,” said Sam, comprehending.

But Ember wasn’t listening. “Bobby,” she whispered through the phone, and all three arguing voices suddenly stopped. “Bobby, what am I going to do?”

There was no answer, until Dean said, very softly. “We’ll get this under control, Ember. We’ll figure out Lilith, and Lucifer too, if it comes to that. I promise you.”


	2. It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

***Dean POV***

Thursday, October 29, Morning

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Dean didn’t see or talk to Ember again for over a month, until nearly Halloween. The brothers were riding in the Impala when they got the call.

“Babysit Ember?” Dean heard Sam ask Bobby over the phone, and he immediately snapped to attention, turning down Bob Dylan on the radio. “Sure, but you know Ember can take care of herself. Why does she want someone to babysit?” Dean cuffed him on the ear. “Ow! Dean, what the hell?” 

The phone call continued for awhile after this, though Dean wasn’t able to make out anything significant from the caller. “Yeah, I understand… yeah, I’ll tell him,” Sam said. “Out of curiousity, why won’t _you_ be hosting her then?” At this point Sam ducked as Dean attempted to cuff him once more across the head. “Oh, okay. You sure you don’t need any help? We don’t have a case at the moment… Oh, okay… well, say hi to Rufus for me. Okay… _yes_, I’ve _noticed_… yes, I believe he does… yes, I’ll tell him.”

Once Sam hung up the phone, Dean immediately attempted to play it cool. “So, Ember, huh?”

Sam rubbed his head where Dean had cuffed him, not fooled by Dean’s attempt at a cavalier attitude. “That _hurt_, jerk.”

“Shut up, bitch.”

They were silent for awhile, before Dean asked, “Why now? And why did Bobby let you know? She could’ve called us herself…”

“Get this… apparently Ember has spent the last several Halloweens with Bobby, because demons… well, they tend to find her on Halloween, more than any other time.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Dean said. “They’re more active.”

“Yeah, I guess she’s got a lot of bad memories of Halloweens. I guess it’s sort of their thing, her and Bobby.”

Dean nodded, thoughtfully. “Yeah, okay. But he bailed on her?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah. Apparently he’s got a situation. He didn’t say much, but it sounded like he and Rufus have got some demons in the basement that they’re trying to interrogate – at least three, judging by the screaming. So, Ember asked if she could spend some time with us on short notice.”

“Are you sure Bobby doesn’t need help?”

“Apparently it’s personal. Something about Rufus’ step-daughter.” Sam shrugged. “Anyway, Bobby asked if Ember could stay with us instead.”

“Awesome!” said Dean. “Think she’ll want her own room?” He stopped, pulling into a fast food restaurant. “Oooh, she’s a therapist. Bet she’ll pay for her own room!”

This time it was Sam’s turn to cuff Dean on the side of his head.

“Ow! Don’t hit the driver!”

“One, you’re _parked_, jerk. Two, the whole point of this operation is for her to stay in the same room as us. You know, because of the whole ‘demon attraction’ thing? And three, what you’re really asking is if you think you have a shot at sleeping with her, and the answer is no, she’s not that easy.” Sam got out of the car and slammed the door.

“How do you know?” Dean followed him.

“Because we’ve talked about it.”

Dean was so busy staring at Sam in shock that he was only narrowly missed by a black Mustang driving too fast through the parking lot. Sam, looking back, began to laugh. “It’s not that big of a deal, dude. We’ve just talked on instant messenger a few times.”

“She’s never on when I’m on,” Dean pouted.

Sam rolled his eyes. “That’s because you only ever get on the computer to look at porn.”

“Don’t knock Asian chicks,” was Dean’s only response, and he stepped up to the counter.

After the brothers had gotten their food, Dean asked, “So what’d she say, when you apparently talked to her online? About being… easy?”

“Well, we didn’t talk about that, _exactly_,” Sam said, “I just consulted her on a couple of demon cases, that’s all. And she said she has to be careful about who she hangs out with, what she does, etcetera. She’s really scared of going demon, going dark. Apparently…” Sam paused. “Apparently she and Bobby have discovered that with her being half-demon and half-human, she has to work extra hard to make sure the good deeds she does outweigh the bad, in order for her to get into Heaven.”

Dean thought about this for a second. Then, “Are you sure the bad deeds count even if she does them while she’s invisible?” In response, Sam threw a french fry in Dean’s face.

As it turns out, however, at the last second, the brothers _did_ have a case that Halloween. Reluctantly, Dean made the phone call to Ember to let her know. “I can direct you to another hunter if you’d like, if you need someone to protect you…” he let his voice trail off. “But you’re always welcome to come with us.” Sam glared daggers at him, but he continued, edging the cell phone out of the way of Sam’s long arms in case he decided to make a grab for it. “Plus, it doesn’t look like this new case involves demons. At first glance, the case sounds like witches. ‘Guy got killed after finding razor blades in the candy. Like, a bunch of them. It’s a bit weird, but not demons’ style.” He really hoped she would agree to come along.

“I can protect _myself_,” came the indignant voice from the other end of the phone, “It’s Mom, or my roommate I’m worried about. And when it comes to hunters, I know who to place my bets on…” Ember laughed. “You know, a demon found me about three weeks ago, and he was a strong one, and got to me while I was asleep. Thought I was gonna have to shoot him. ‘Threw out your name, though, and he sure knew who you were, Dean. He paused so long I was able to exorcise him instead of killin’ him. Good thing, too. Host was a father of three, with a little one on the way! He sent me a thank-you card and $100. I’ll be paying for a hotel on the trip, by the way. I can go as high as 3-star, no higher.”

Dean grinned despite himself. “Awesome! I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Sure… text me the address, and I’ll meet you there.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

***Ember POV***

Friday, October 30, Evening

“I gotta say,” Dean said late the next day, “I’m really glad this case has hit a dead end for now.” Dean was relaxing in the hotel’s hot tub with his eyes closed, giving Ember the opportunity to glance freely at his bare chest. He looked so relaxed that she almost felt as though she was invading him in a private moment. Hot tubs were a luxury for her, but she was at least used to an apartment complex rather than a variety of flea-bitten motels.

“Agreed,” she said. “For a second there, I was afraid we wouldn’t have time for the pool or hot tub.” Dean opened his eyes again, just long enough to take a long, smoldering look at her breasts, then closed them again. He had been doing that a lot, and it was making her feel as though she was on display, though not altogether in a bad way.

“So what do you and Bobby usually get up to on Halloween?” Dean asked conversationally.

“Well, two years ago we exorcised a pair of demons that thought they’d jump in on the trick-or-treating,” Ember answered.

Dean laughed. “What did they dress up as?”

“A ballerina and a vampire.”

Dean snorted, his eyes flying open. “A ballerina? Seriously?”

“Looked like a bargain bin costume,” Ember said, laughing. “I don’t think the demon knew what it had dressed up as. I think they were in the neighborhood, got wind of me, and bought the first costumes they found thinking it was a clever idea to get in the door.”

“And did they get in the door?”

Ember grinned. “Yeah, that’s when the fun started.”

Dean was silent for a second, then said seriously, “You’d be a good hunter, you know.”

Ember, who had been relaxing, turned her eyes toward him, silently asking a question.

“You’re quick, you clearly attract trouble, and you still manage to make light of it.”

Ember thought that Dean might be talking about himself, as well as her. It surprised her that he was willing to discuss this so early in their friendship. 

“Like you?” Ember asked, and Dean smiled slightly.

Suddenly Dean’s phone began to ring, making both Dean and Ember jump. Ember could hear Sam’s voice through the phone. “Another death, this time a high school girl,” he was saying. “She was bobbing for apples, and the water suddenly started boiling, they’re saying. Police just called. You coming?”

And, they were off again.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

As it turned out, the case apparently _did_ involve a demon. Apparently the witch in question was attempting to summon the demon of Halloween, Samhain, as Sam Winchester discovered later that night while going through the lore.

“We’d understand if you wanted to leave,” Sam told her before they went to bed that night. “This wasn’t what you signed on for.”

“Well, with any luck, we’ll find the witch and I won’t need to worry about it,” Ember said. “But until that point, I was right – you guys are gonna need me.” A knock came, and Ember rose to answer the door. “Excellent! My cot bed is here.”

“Cot bed?” Dean and Sam asked at the same time.

“Duh, cot bed,” Ember answered. “This room has two beds, and there’s three of us.” She wheeled the cot into the room and began setting it up, thanking room service.

“Ember, you didn’t need to-…” Sam started.

“Don’t be stupid,” Ember answered. “The cot bed is six feet long. Both of you are taller than that.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak again, but Dean said, “You could always just share my bed.”

Ember looked him up and down slowly, this time making it extremely obvious, then turned away. “Nah.”

“Why not?” Dean said indignantly, as Sam tried (and failed) to hold in his laughter.

Ember grinned, smiling at him flirtatiously. “’Cause I don’t want to be thrown out with the linens in the morning,” she said, and tossed her hair over her shoulder on the way to the bathroom.

“She got you, dude!” Sam’s laughter echoed through the bathroom door. 

When Ember came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later, however, Dean was asleep on the cot. 

***Dean POV***

Saturday, October 31, Morning

It was late the next morning before Dean finally dared bring up last night’s conversation. He and Ember were sitting companionably in the Impala on a stake-out, making their way slowly through the Halloween candy found with the first death.

“So…” Dean said, looking for the right words. “About last night… can I ask who told you that I’m…”

“A man-whore?” Ember asked, laughing.

Dean almost choked on his candy. He had been going for “promiscuous”, but he couldn’t deny that he would appreciate the “man-whore” description in other circumstances.

“Bobby,” Ember answered. “And, Bobby again. And Sam. And then Bobby again, before I came this weekend.”

“Sam’s almost as bad,” Dean said indignantly.

“Yeah, Bobby mentioned that too,” Ember said, laughing again.

“So… so Sam said… you have to kind of atone for being half-demon,” Dean said, venturing into more serious territory but still continuing the same train of thought. “So, what, you never have any fun? You never, you know, let your hair down a little?”

Ember laughed. “Are you asking if I’m a virgin?”

“Are you?” Dean asked. He hadn’t been asking that exactly, but the possibility had occurred to him.

Ember scoffed. “Don’t be stupid, I’m 25. And yes, I have _fun_. Just, probably not as much _fun_ as you have, and not with as many _fun _people.” That was good to know, thought Dean. If she had been a virgin, he definitely would’ve given up the chase.

“They make it sound like I’m… I don’t know, _unable _to have a serious relationship,” Dean said, pouting.

“Aren’t you?” she asked, and the way she looked at him, her brown eyes wide and innocent, made him wish more than anything in the world that he could say no.

“I _could_ have a relationship,” Dean answered. “It’s just… hunting… this life doesn’t exactly lend itself to that kind of lifestyle,” he said honestly. “I mean, with most girls… what am I going to say? ‘I’m going demon-hunting this weekend, I’ll be home when people stop dying?’ There’s a foundation for a solid relationship.”

“Fair point,” Ember said, then added, “It’s not easy for me, either.”

Dean looked at her, urging her to continue.

“What would my boyfriend say? ‘Hey, honey, you know there’s a corpse on the floor, right?’” Ember mocked. “And I’d respond, ‘Yeah, it’s cool, it’s just a demon. He broke in here because he thought I smelled sexy, but I shot him in the chest until he found another host.’”

Dean laughed dryly. “Has that happened?”

“Only when I was younger, before Bobby taught me how to exorcise them,” Ember said. She rolled her eyes. “Normally if I have a boyfriend, the demons just stow away in him. It’s easier, and demons are lazy. I can always tell, though.”

“Shit, and I thought I had it bad,” Dean said. He wondered at Ember’s ability to make light of what he knew must have been horrors in her past, though he knew better than to voice this aloud.

Ember shrugged, and the two were silent for awhile, until another topic emerged. 

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Dean was just on his way into the hotel room when he heard Sam shout, “Who are you?”

Dean spotted Castiel, and vaulted into the hotel room ahead of Sam. “Sam! Sam, wait! It’s Castiel… the angel.” There was another man in the room too, a black man. “Him I don’t know.”

“Hello, Sam.” Castiel replied in his deep voice.

“Oh my God!” Sam responded, clearly at a loss for words. “Er, uh… I didn’t mean to… sorry. It’s an honor. Really, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Sam attempted to shake Castiel’s hand, which Castiel returned reluctantly.

“And I, you,” Castiel said. “Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood. Glad to hear you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities.” Castiel turned to Ember, who was still in the corner, looking quizzically at the angel. For a second, Castiel looked quizzically back. Finally, in his deep monotone voice, Castiel asked, “Dean, why have you not killed the half-demon?”

Ember drew out her revolver, and Castiel in turn drew his angel blade. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Sam and Dean screamed. “Everybody put the weapons down!” Ember and Castiel both reluctantly lowered their weapons, staring daggers at each other, each poised to strike. 

“Ember is a friend,” Dean said to Castiel. “She’s helping us with the case.”

“But she’s half-demon.” It wasn’t a question. “She will kill us all.”

“No, she won’t!” Dean said. 

“I’ve never killed anyone I could save,” Ember spat at him. The angel seemed taken aback by this, and looked at Dean for clarification.

“She’s a friend, Castiel. We’re all friends here. Cas, put that away. Ember, your revolver won’t work on him anyway.” A beat passed, then another. Slowly, at the same time, Ember and Castiel both put away their weapons. Then Castiel made to approach her, looking at her quizzically. She shrank back, putting her hand up to stop Castiel with her invisible force if needed, and Dean moved to stand between Ember and his angel friend.

“I won’t kill you,” the angel promised. “I won’t hurt you, either, just keep your hands to your sides. I just want to look inside your mind, to judge you. It may make things easier for everyone.”

Dean looked at Ember questioningly. “And what if you judge me unworthy?” Ember asked the angel.

Castiel thought for a moment, then said, “I will inform you before I kill you.”

Ember thought for a second, then sighed, and nodded to Dean, who moved out of the way. Castiel took two fingers and stretched them out to Ember’s head, allowing them to linger there for a minute.

Ember screwed up her face in expectation, but when Castiel’s fingers touched her head she opened her eyes again, staring up at his fingers curiously, her eyes crossing.

Castiel removed his fingers, stepping back away from Ember. “Very curious,” he said. “You have maintained control of your demon powers. You have never made a kill that was not a demon. You have even spared the host, when you could manage it. I must consult with my superiors about whether or not we should kill you. But, do not fear, it will not be today. We have other matters to attend to. This raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?”

Ember looked at Dean quizzically, who caught her eye and shrugged while Sam answered the angel’s question. “Angels,” he said. “They’re weird like that.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN--- 

***Ember POV***

Sunday, November 1, Early Morning

Ember, Dean, and Sam had failed to save the seal. The three of them had barged in on the art teacher, who had the blond cheerleader strung up from the ceiling to use as a sacrifice. Dean had shot and killed the art teacher, but then the blond cheerleader had revealed that she, too, was a witch, throwing all three of them back. And that was how Ember found out that witches were immune to her powers.

It was Sam, ultimately, who had exorcised Samhain, with only the use of his mind. This scared Ember more than anything she had yet seen.

It took her several hours to corner Sam alone, but she finally managed it, when Dean made a run to go get food for the next morning. “Look, Sam,” she started, then sighed. “Fuck it. I’m not skirting around this issue. Does Dean know you’re drinking demon blood?”

Sam froze in the process of folding a shirt. “How did you know?”

“You’ve told me you were fed demon blood when you were a baby, by Azazel. That should give you some powers, but I wasn’t aware that exorcising demons with your mind was in your repertoire.” Her tone had become sarcastic. “It’s that demon that was with you when I met you, wasn’t it? The one that ran away from me? You told Dean you didn’t know she was a demon.”

Sam had the decency to look ashamed of himself.

“Sam, did it not occur to you that I came to you on Halloween to _protect myself_ from demons?” she snapped at him, and he finally faced her.

Ember stalked Sam across the room, her anger palpable. “Now I know you’ve convinced Dean that you’ll be fine as long as you don’t _use_ the demon powers,” she continued, “but we both know he has no idea how you got them _in the first place. _And maybe you’ve even convinced yourself that you’ll _be able to control it._” She came closer to him, using her powers to force him against the wall, and he didn’t resist. “Do you know how easy it would be for me to drink some demon blood and smite everyone who tries to get at me? But I don’t do it. Do you know why? Because I’ll end up becoming _like them. _And _you will too._ And where does _that_ leave me when I come to visit, hmmm? Did you think about that? How much demon blood will you drink before you turn into _that?”_

The look that Sam gave Ember then was one of fear, and in that second Ember realized something else. “That’s why you’ve been sending me off with Dean all weekend, isn’t it? At the pool, and again at the stake-out? It’s not because you think we’re a good match… It’s because you can feel the effect the demon blood has on you when I’m around, and it scares you, because you know if you drink much more you won’t be able to control yourself.”

Sam looked back at her, hurt. “Ember, how can you think… You must know I would never try to…”

“Of course I know that!” she snapped. “I’ve heard stories about the two of you since I was 15, from Bobby. But demon blood, Sam? What are you _thinking_?”

Sam looked down at his hands. “I stopped doing it.”

“What?” Ember asked, surprised. She could tell he wasn’t lying. She backed up from him, and he slumped somewhat against the wall.

“I stopped,” he said. “I did it for awhile, but I stopped, about 3 weeks ago, because it scared me… just like you’re saying. It just… hasn’t left my system yet completely.”

Ember searched him for signs of lying, but found none, and sighed, finally releasing him both physically and mentally from his place against the wall. “It’ll take longer than a few weeks,” she said. 

Sam nodded. “That’s what she said… Ruby, is her name. She said it’ll be months before the demon blood is out of my system entirely, if ever. But I can already feel it lessening, each day. And also… Dean knows about her now. About Ruby, I mean.”

“Yeah?” Ember said, curious now. “How did he handle it?”

“Exactly like you’d expect,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “It’s pretty tense. But neither of them have killed the other one, so that’s probably best case scenario.”

Ember laughed. “I still don’t like it, Sam. You told me online that she saved you, but a demon is a demon… they’re bad, all around.” 

“You’re not,” he pointed out, a big grin on his face.

Ember rolled her eyes, nudging him in the shoulder. “_Half-_demon, remember?”

Sam nodded, returning to his work folding the shirt.

“Look, just promise me one thing,” Ember said.

“Yeah?” Sam asked.

“If I see you and Dean again… be honest with me about how long ago you’ve had the demon blood, and about how much you’ve had. I can’t risk… well, I can’t risk anything happening because you’ve… overdosed.”

Sam nodded. “That’s more than fair. I promise.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

***Dean POV***

Sunday, November 1, Early morning

Dean was not the least bit surprised when Castiel joined him to debrief the next morning, as he sat on a bench in the park. What did surprise him, however, was Castiel’s first question.

“Your friend is interesting.”

Dean scoffed. “Have you decided whether or not to kill her?”

Castiel paused. “My superiors will watch her, but for now they have determined that she does not pose a threat and may in fact be helpful to our cause.”

“Too bad you pissed her off, then, isn’t it?” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

“She understands our initial hesitation. Half-demons are extremely rare, and usually very powerful. Finding one that has not indulged in that power for demonic purposes is rare and special indeed.”

Dean nodded, but sensed there was something else Castiel wanted to discuss. It was a full minute before Castiel finally said, “She makes me feel funny, and I don’t like it.”

“Are you trying to tell me you _desire_ her?” Dean asked in amazement.

“No,” Castiel said immediately in his deep voice. “Angels do not desire humans, and they certainly do not desire demons.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Castiel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got changed a lot because of some stuff that happens later, so I might come back and edit it at some point, but I think that this is its' final form. I made Ember pretty powerful, particularly later on, so I think it'll help to have her immune to witches. It makes a lot of sense, too. Let me know in reviews. I don't own Supernatural. It has *ahem* influenced me a lot. (Just kidding. Seriously, has anybody watched the conventions?)


	3. Heaven and Hell

***Ember POV***

November 6, Evening

Ember and Dean had been talking on and off through text message, but he didn’t call again until November 6th.

“Hey! Are you super busy?” he asked when she picked up the phone.

“Well, for you guys I’m free,” said Ember. She’d been hoping to relax a bit that evening, as it had been a long day at work, but she was excited that he had called. “Where are you guys?”

“Concrete, Washington,” Dean said. “We found a wishing well that actually works.”

“Seriously? Tell me you didn’t actually make a wish.”

Dean laughed. “Well, I wished for a sandwich to test it out. That was a mistake.” Now that she thought about it, he did sound a little sickly. “Anyway, would you mind looking something up for me?”

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

“We traced the wishing well back to this little restaurant. There was a coin in it that was stuck to the bottom, and we couldn’t get it off. We tried a crow bar and everything. I’m sending you a picture… can you see if you can identify it for me?”

“No problem. Where’s Sam? Or Bobby? Don’t they usually do this kind of thing?”

“Bobby’s still dealing with that demon thing with Rufus, and I don’t know about Sam. He said he had something he had to take care of. If he’s off doing stuff with his demon powers, I swear I’ll kick his ass.”

Ember laughed darkly. “You and me both. Hold on, I’m searching around. I’ll call you back, okay?”

But Ember heard a groan, and Dean hung up.

Ember searched for about twenty minutes before she found the coin in question. She called Dean back twice, but there was no answer. Finally, he called her back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, giving a cough. “The wishes turn bad, like I said. What’d you find?”

“The coin was Babylonian. It’s cursed,” Ember told him. “The snake is Tiamat, which is the Babylonian god of primordial chaos. It looks like the ancient priests cursed it. Whoever made this website has a few theories about places in history that were affected by a coin like the one you’ve got.”

“Does it say anything about how to get rid of it? Or even get it off the wishing well?”

“Everything here says you have to go back to the first wisher. I’m sending Sam the link over instant messenger for when he gets back. Maybe he can make heads or tails of it.”

“Hey, thanks for your help, Ember.” Dean was silent for a few seconds, then he said suavely, “What would you wish for if you could make a wish, and if it was guaranteed to not turn bad?”

Ember laughed. “This is hypothetical, right?”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, judging by the sandwich, it’s definitely hypothetical.”

“In that case, I’d wish to not attract demons anymore. Or… maybe I’d just wish there weren’t any demons at all. What about you?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Then Dean said suavely, “I’d wish for one night with you, sexy.”

Ember laughed. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Definitely,” Dean said.

***Dean POV***

November 15, Daytime

Dean Cell Phone: **Ember: Happy Birthday!**

Ember Cell Phone: **Thanks Dean! How did you know it was my birthday?**

Dean Cell Phone: **Facebook?**

Ember Cell Phone: **You’re never on facebook.**

Dean Cell Phone: **OK, Fine. Sam told me. He says happy birthday too.**

“Are you texting Ember again?” Sam asked from the other side of their dingy motel room.

“No,” Dean responded.

“Yes you are.”

“How do you know?”  
“Because unless you’re working, which we both know you’re not, you’re texting Ember. You talk to her way more often than I do these days.”

“Good,” Dean said, before he could stop himself. He was too busy with his phone to catch Sam’s look of surprise.

Ember Cell Phone: **Thanks! What do I get for my birthday?**

Dean Cell Phone: **What do you want? Pick your poison.**

“Why don’t you just ask her to go somewhere with you?” Sam asked.

“Where would we go?” Dean responded. ‘Hey, Ember, d’ya want to let Sam stay at your place for a weekend? You and him can switch places and we can go have large amounts of sex in really shitty motel rooms.’ Besides, she’s half-demon, remember?”

“Are you honestly telling me that if she was sitting there naked on the bed that you would tell her, ‘Oh, sorry, you’re half-demon, I can’t have sex with you.’”

“Well, no, I’d tell you to screw off for a few hours,” Dean admitted.

Ember Cell Phone: **A few less demons in the world would be nice.**

Dean Cell Phone: **Well that’s a given. I was thinking something a little more… pleasurable.**

“Jesus, are you sexting with her?” Sam asked. “You’ve got that look you get when you’ve sent a dick pic.”

“Shut up, bitch. I didn’t send her a dick pic.”

“That’s even worse! You actually like her enough _not _to send her a dick pic!”

Dean put down the phone. “Are we _actually _going to _talk _about this?”

Ember Cell Phone: **That sounds great! I would totally love some c=======3 **

Dean Cell Phone: **… I’m definitely your man then… **

Ember Cell Phone: **Ah, if only that were true, then we might really be able to go somewhere sexy with this conversation. **

“Sexting not going well?” Sam asked, watching Dean’s facial expressions.

“Jesus, don’t you have lore to be reading, or porn to be watching or something!”

Sam was laughing. “Oh, _poor _Dean. He has a smart, funny woman who is beautiful, who knows what we do for a living, and who is damn good at killing demons herself, and she wants _a relationship_. God you’re a fucking jerk.”

“Shut up, bitch!”

***Ember POV***

November 20, Ridiculously Early Morning

Dean had made tentative plans to visit with Ember the following weekend, but a case had come up at the last second which had taken him to Oregon instead. The next time Ember saw him was near the end of November. Ruby had tipped off Sam and Dean about the existence of a woman named Anna, an escaped mental patient who was locked up after going into hysterics about the apocalypse.

“Get this - she knows everything! Everything that’s happened so far, with Lilith, and the breaking of the seals,” Dean said to Ember on the phone. It was 4:00 AM, and the phone was a burner phone, and Ember didn’t recognize the number. She’d known immediately, therefore, that it would be one of the brothers. “I guess she heard the angels in her head, and she tried to warn people, and it didn’t go so well. But the demons have killed her parents. They tried to kill us, too, but... well,.. you know how that goes. Anyway, Castiel and another angel came here to track down Anna, but she banished them. I’m not sure how she did it, I’ve never seen the sigil she made before. We don’t have any idea who she is, or where she’s from, but we know she’s important, so we’re going to try to find out more. Something big is going down, and the Midwest is full of heavy-hitting demons at the moment. We’re heading back to South Dakota, to Bobby’s panic room. I could pick you up on the way, if you like.”

“Ember?” said Sam’s voice in the background. “Dean, give me the phone for a sec.”

Apparently Dean passed the phone to Sam, because the voice they heard next was Sam’s. “Listen, Dean’s not going to tell you this, but we could really use you. There are some demons after us with some serious mojo. And I hate to ask, I really do, but I…”

“You’re not as strong, because you haven’t been on the blood?” Ember whispered, sighing.

“Yeah,” Sam whispered. “And Ruby’s here, too. I wanted to tell you before you get here. But she’s safe, I promise. She already ran from you once, remember?”

Ember was silent for a minute, then said, “Damn it. I’m gonna regret this.” She sighed again, then steeled herself. “When will you be around? I’ve got some stuff I have to finish up at work, but I can get it done if I go in really early. I can be ready to go by about 9:30.”

It was Dean’s voice that answered again. “Awesome, that should be right around the time I get there anyway. I’ll see you soon.”

November 21, Late Afternoon

***Ember POV***

Dean and Anna picked Ember up at 9:30 AM on the morning of the 20th, while Sam and Ruby went to recover the Impala, which had been ditched the night before. When the group reconvened in Bobby’s panic room, they realized they needed Pamela, their psychic friend in the Midwest. They made arrangments to meet Pamela at a halfway point. This time, Sam and Ruby stayed to watch Anna, and Ember rode with Dean to pick up Pamela. They hoped that their blind psychic friend might be able to shed some light on Anna’s past through hypnosis. 

The car ride with Dean and Pamela was extremely enjoyable. Ember found herself flirting with Dean more than ever, and Pamela laughed along with both of them. “Jesus, get a room!” she said several times.

“I would, if she’d let me,” Dean sauced back, and Ember laughed. 

It was late in the day on the 21st by the time Pamela finally arrived back at Bobby’s. Things turned sour the moment the hypnosis with Anna was completed, however. “I’m an angel,” she said. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not like the others.”

“I don’t find that very reassuring,” said Ruby.

“Neither do I,” answered Pamela.

“So… Castiel… Uriel… they’re the ones that came for me?” Anna questioned.

“You know them?” Sam asked.

“We were… kinda in the same foxhole.”

“So what, they’re like your bosses or something?” Dean asked.

“Try the other way around,” Anna answered. Ember had to admit, she was on the same side as Ruby and Pamela. She had a very bad feeling about Anna. She couldn’t explain it. Perhaps it was her initial distaste of Castiel (and immense dislike of Uriel), or perhaps she simply didn’t like the way Anna was looking at Dean. This new news that Anna used to be a high-ranking angel was even more unwelcome.

“Look at you,” Dean answered, nodding at Anna. Ember would have quite liked to stab her.

“Now they want to kill you?” asked Pamela.

“Orders are orders,” Anna answered. “I’m sure I have a death sentence on my head.”

“Why?” Pam asked.

“I disobeyed,” Anna replied. “Which, for us, is about the worst thing you can do. I fell.”

“Meaning?” Dean asked.

“She fell to Earth. Became human,” filled in Pamela.

“Wait a minute, I don’t understand,” Sam questioned. “So angels can just become human?”

“It kind of hurts,” Anna answered. “Try cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. That kind of hurt. I ripped out my grace.”

“Come again?” Dean asked.

“My grace. It’s… energy. I hacked it out and fell. My mother, Amy, couldn’t get pregnant. Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was.”

“So, you just… forgot that you were God’s little power ranger?” Dean asked.

“The older I got, the longer I was human, yeah,” Anna answered.

“I don’t think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are,” Ruby said, and Ember was relieved (for once) to hear the demon.

“Ruby’s right,” Anna admitted. “Heaven wants me dead.”

“And Hell just… wants her,” Ruby continued. “A flesh and blood angel that you can question, torture… that bleeds. Sister, you’re the Stanley cup! And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they’re gonna find you.”

“Not only that,” Ember said, “You guys forget. I’m practically a beacon for supernatural energy. I’m shocked they’re not gathering around like zombies. I should go.”

“No,” Dean said, “By now they’ll know you’re with us. If they can’t get to us, they’ll get to you the moment you’re alone. And it won’t just be one or two of them.”

“He’s right,” Anna said. “And that’s why… I’m gonna get it back. My grace.”

***Ember POV***

November 22, Late Night

The group had hoped that they would find Anna’s grace in Kentucky, but they had had no such luck. Even worse, the angels had threatened to throw Dean back into Hell if nobody had turned over Anna by midnight that night. 

Ember was tucked into a corner of the group of abandoned sheds where they were all staying when Sam came in to search further through the stack of books she had brought with her. “Ember!” he said, greeting her. “Any luck?”

“Not even the slightest,” Ember admitted. “You?”

“No,” Sam said.

“So, what’s your demon girlfriend think about this whole angel thing?”

Sam grimaced, and averted his eyes. “She’s not a fan, I can tell you that much.”

Ember smiled. “She thinks you ought to ditch the angel, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted. “But I’m not entertaining the idea.”

Ember nodded. “Well, I’m not surprised. She _is_ a demon.”

“You’re half demon,” Sam replied. “Is that what you think?”

“No,” Ember said. “You wouldn’t be the Winchesters if you didn’t try to help her. Besides, it sounds like she was right to run from those militant goons.” Ember paused. “I have to admit, though, I’m not a real fan of her. I’ll be glad when she’s gone back to wherever angels go when they’re on the run from other angels.”

“What have you got against her?” Sam asked.

It was Ember’s turn to avoid his eyes. “I don’t know, I just have a bad feeling about this whole situation.” A bad feeling that had gotten worse the longer Anna had been around them. Ember had definitely caught her staring at Dean a few times when she thought nobody was looking.

“Sure,” Sam said, smiling, and Ember knew he wasn’t fooled.

Ember changed the subject. “So you’re off demon blood, then?”

“I’ve kept my promise,” he said, choosing a few more books from the pile.

“I can tell,” Ember said. “Is demon-girl okay with that?”

Sam looked up, irritated. “She has a name, you know. I’d think you, of all people, would treat her with a little more acceptance. Especially today, when we’re all teamed up together.”

Ember sighed. “You’re probably right,” she admitted. “It’s just… with everything that I’ve been through with demons, it’s a mark of your good word about her that I don’t throw her against the wall when I see her. But… I suppose you’re probably right. Me, of all people, probably _should_ give her a chance.”

Sam looked at Ember, quirking a surprised smile. “Thanks,” he said. “If we get through the next 24 hours, that’ll mean a lot to me.”

“You really kind of like her, don’t you?”

He nodded, slowly. “I don’t know,” he said. “I still can’t get past the demon thing myself, maybe. But… she was human once… so maybe.” He paused. “You really like Dean, don’t you?”

Ember paused. “I’m starting to, yeah.” There was another pause. “Speaking of Dean, do you know where he is?” Ember asked. “I couldn’t find him earlier.”

“I’d go check outside,” Sam said. “He was looking at maps the last time I saw him.”

“Thanks,” Ember said.

When Ember went outside, however, it took her awhile to find the Impala. It was oddly parked, in a grove of trees nearly a half a block away from the group of abandoned houses. And when she got closer, she felt her heart dive upon spotting Anna in the Impala… naked. And as she continued to look, her heart continued to dive further.

November 22, Later Night

***Dean POV***

“So what’s this plan of yours?” Dean asked, guiding Anna back into the living room. It was a shame; this was only the second time he’d had sex since hell. God, he’d needed that. He sighed. Just in time to go _back _to hell. 

“Where’s Ember?” Anna asked, and Dean looked around, too, and noticed that she was gone.

“I don’t know,” Sam confessed. “I haven’t seen her in an hour or so.” He looked at Dean. “Last time I saw her, she was looking for you.”

Dean’s heart dove. He had _thought _about Ember before he had sex with Anna, of course. He had spent the last month or so trying to chase Ember, and he had really hoped that it would be _she _who would have sex with him during his last night on Earth. But, when it was so readily offered elsewhere, he was not the type of guy to turn it down. Surely she would understand that, he thought. 

“Her stuff is gone, too,” said Ruby.

Dean felt his stomach plummet, and gave Anna a guilty look. Anna caught it, and narrowed her eyes. “Were you _seeing_ her?” Anna demanded.

“_No_,” Dean said, but nobody was convinced.

Ruby was the only one who spoke, however: “Jesus, you’re an idiot.”

***Dean POV***

November 23, Morning

Dean Cell Phone: **Hey… Tried to call you, but you’re not picking up. Just so you know, we got things figured out with the angels and the demons. They ended up fighting each other. Anna got her grace back and she’s gone.**

Ember Cell Phone: **Thx 4 letting know. **

***Dean POV***

November 23, Evening

Dean Cell Phone: **Look, I’m sorry about Anna. **

Ember Cell Phone: **No, it’s cool. Last night on Earth. I get it. Plus, she’s more your type.**

Dean Cell Phone: **More my type?**

Ember Cell Phone: **Easy.**

“Not going well, then?” Sam asked, driving the Impala down the road.

“Nah,” Dean said.

“Can you blame her?” Sam asked him. “You guys weren’t _together_, but you both knew it was headed there.”

Dean thought for a moment. It had been his last day on Earth, he’d thought at the time. Still, how many “last nights on Earth” had he had? More than a few. 

Which, truth be told, was part of the problem. Truthfully, he didn’t deserve Ember.

He hadn’t deserved Anna, either, and look how the universe was apparently punishing him for that. He thought briefly about trying to explain himself, about what he went through in Hell, and what he’d been facing again… but the thought was fleeting and gone in a moment. Ember didn’t need that, and he didn’t really want to explain it. He hadn’t wanted to discuss Hell with Sam, and he certainly didn’t want to discuss it with Ember.  
“Probably better it happened now rather than later,” Dean said out loud to Sam. “We’re both better off this way.”

“Okay,” said Sam, dubiously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never really liked Anna much, as a character. Her hair is gorgeous, though. This chapter was fun to write, because I'm not really sure there's a right answer to this fight.


	4. Sex and Violence

***Dean POV***

December 27, Late Night

**ONE MONTH LATER**

_Clackclackclackclack. Clackclackclack. _Dean couldn’t sleep. Again. It wasn’t a surprise – he’d rarely slept, ever since he got back from hell.

_Clackclackclack. _“Dude! What are you doing? I’m trying to sleep!” Dean groaned into the air.

“You _used_ to be able to sleep through anything,” came Sam’s voice sarcastically. “Relax. I’m just shooting a message to Ember, and then I’m going to sleep.”

“Ember?” Dean asked, his eyes flying open. He turned toward Sam and said nonchalantly, “I didn’t realize you… still talked to her.”

Sam paused. “_I _never really _stopped _talking to her,” he said. “Ember and I are friends, man. We have a lot in common.”

“Like what?” Dean asked. He had felt a stab of jealousy which was both unexpected and uncomfortable.

“Uh, like, we both have demon issues,” Sam said, staring at Dean with suspicion. “And, we both like to read…”

Oh. That should have been obvious. “Right, yeah. How’s she doing?”

Sam arched an eyebrow. “You know, if you bothered to call her, or text her, she’d probably talk to you. You thought it was your last night on Earth, dude! What you did was sleazy, but not unforgiveable.”

“I told you, man, it’s better this way.” Dean gave Sam a big grin. “Makes me a free agent. I’m single and ready to mingle.”

Sam shut his computer and gave Dean a look that said he wanted to discuss the situation. “Dean, if this is about what happened in Hell-…”

“Dude.” Dean said, fixing Sam with a poisonous glare. “I _said_ I’m trying to _sleep.”_

But Sam fell asleep long before Dean did.

***Ember POV***

February 6, Early evening

**6 WEEKS LATER**

“Listen, I know how you feel about Dean,” Bobby said over the phone. “And I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need you.”

Ember groaned. “But surely the siren can’t fool both of them at once,” Ember said. “Like, even if Dean gets suckered in by her charms, Sam will sort things out, won’t he?”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Bobby said. “I wouldn’t put it past this bitch to play both of them at once. I mean, c’mon, we already know she’s pretending to be a stripper. You know as well as I do that both those idgits are doomed. And you’re the only person I’ve ever met who can tell who the siren is by looking. And now the FBI’s sent in another one of their goons…”

“Shit,” Ember said. She doused the small flame of excitement that rose up at the opportunity to see Dean again, and concentrated on the strong desire to throw her phone out of anger. She’d already been hurt by Dean once. “Fine,” she snapped, “I’ll grab a plane later tonight.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Once Ember arrived in Bedford, Iowa, she had tried Sam first, but he hadn’t picked up the phone. Reluctantly, Ember tried Dean. Dean picked up on the first ring. “Ember! Hey, how are you? Are you in town?”

“Yeah. I tried Sam, but he’s not picking up.”

Dean gave a frustrated groan from the other end. “Yeah, he’s not picking up for me either. I thought this case would be easy, but maybe Bobby was right to send you. Hold on, I’m coming to you.”

“Okay.”

Twenty minutes later, Dean pulled up to the airport. He looked as good as Ember remembered, if maybe harder around the edges, and she could feel her heart turn over and plummet to her feet.

Ember wasted no time on pleasantries after climbing into the Impala. “Any word from Sam?” she asked.

“Bupkis,” he answered. 

“Where did you see him last?”

“At the Taylor County Medical Center, looking into the blood samples of the people who were infected by the siren. I went with Nick, from the FBI, to the strip club to keep him busy and to see if we could find the siren there.”

Ember laughed. “I’ll just bet you did.”

Dean ignored her comment. “But I checked the Medical Center before I came to get you, and he’s not there. And I checked the hotel before that; he’s not there either.”

Ember could tell Dean was frantic, and she was beginning to worry, herself. It wasn’t like Sam not to answer the phone. “And you have no idea where he is, or who the siren is?”

Dean screwed up his face. “Well, Nick saw flower petals at the crime scene where the last man murdered his mother. And there were some flowers like that in the office of one Dr. Cara Roberts at the Medical Center, where we went to get the results.”

Suddenly, Dean got a call on his cell. “Sam! Where the hell have you been? … Oh, it’s ‘Cara’ now. And you’re not picking up your phone. … Yeah, I’ll bet.” Dean’s face was looking more and more severe as he continued his conversation.

“Nick found flower petals at the crime scene. Hyacynths.” A long pause. “Hyacynths? Meditteranean? From the island where the whole freaking siren myth started in the first place? Sam, Cara had hyacinth flowers.”

There was a long pause, during which Dean’s frown got deeper. “Well, I did a little checking up on her. She’s only been in town for two months. … And she has an ex-husband. A _dead_ ex-husband, Carl Roberts. Dropped like a stone, no warning, supposedly a heart attack.”

Another long pause, and Dean shot Ember a frustrated glare, still speaking into the phone. “You’re kidding me… and what makes you so sure? … A hunch? I’m giving you cold, hard facts here, and you’re giving me a hunch? … Did you sleep with her?”

Ember Cell Phone: **Bobby, you’re right. They’re in way over their heads.**

***Dean POV***

February 6, 2017 Later evening

Dean had forgotten how amazingly hot Ember was. In their three months apart, it seemed she had just gotten more attractive. Her hair was longer, and she seemed just a little bit thinner. She wore a black hoodie and jeans, but somehow to him this made her seem all the more attractive.

But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. “I think it’s got Sam under its spell,” he said. “Which means the best idea at this point is for us to kill it before we see him again. We’ve got to find Cara.”

First Dean and Ember looked at Cara’s house, which was on the outside of town. While they drove, they chatted about their lives, and their jobs, and ultimately fell into a comfortable silence. Cara wasn’t at her house, however, so Dean called the Medical Center to see if anyone knew where she spent time after hours. “They said she hangs out at the Pub on 45th and Simmons,” Dean said when he got off the phone. “That’s all the way back in town. I’m gonna call Nick and have him keep an eye on her so we don’t miss her. We’ll meet him there.”

“Okay, cool.” And with that, they headed back the 45 minutes into town.

“So,” Dean said, turning down the radio and attempting conversation, “If a siren came to you in disguise as the perfect man, what would that look like?”

A blush colored Ember’s cheeks, but she said nothing for a long time. Finally she answered, “I’m not sure, really. I guess they would definitely be understanding about the whole demon thing. And they should probably be able to protect themselves a little bit, too. The tattoo wouldn’t hurt. And… you know, they should be funny. And have a good set of morals. And… and not be a dick.” She averted her eyes, looking out the window. “How about you?”

Dean sighed. He knew he wouldn’t have a better opportunity than this to make things right between them. “Look, Ember, I’m sorry about Anna.”

Ember jumped, but still didn’t look at him. “That was three months ago. It doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does, or we would’ve talked in the last three months,” Dean said with more force than he had intended. He didn’t wait for her to interrupt him, but continued on. “Look, if I’d thought that I’d had even half a chance with you, I might’ve thought twice about what happened.”

Ember’s head whipped around so fast it nearly made him jump in surprise. “Look, it’s cool, really. I mean, it was your last night on Earth, supposedly. Like I said, I get it.” She was silent for awhile, but then she spoke again, as if she couldn’t help it. “Here’s what I don’t get, though, okay? Here’s what I don’t get. We’d been flirting for nearly a month. We talked all the time. You were even going to come visit me, until that ghost in Oregon happened. You _had _to know that if you’d said something that night…” She looked away from him, then once again turned her head to stare at him venomously. “I mean, c’mon Dean, we thought it was your last night on Earth. All you would’ve had to do would’ve been to ask me. I’m not easy, but I’m not a prude either. But instead, I find you in the Impala with Anna. I mean, what the fuck? Was it the demon thing? And if so, why even bother flirting with me all that time? Or, are you really _that_ scared of a relationship, that you’d hedge your bets and fuck it up _just in case _you made it out alive? Or, were you planning on sleeping with _both_ of us? Because I get the whole ‘last night on Earth’ thing, but that’s going a little far.”

Something inside Dean snapped. Maybe it was being worried about Sam, or maybe it was because he hadn’t been laid since Anna (and he was still paying for that one), or perhaps it was not being able to sleep because of the nightmares of Hell that still haunted him, or maybe it was the impending Apocalypse. “Look, I thought I was going back to Hell the next day,” he said. “And you have _no idea _what that’s like. Now normally I like the chase, I’m not gonna lie. And you’re beautiful, and you can take care of yourself, and you understand my job, hell, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted! But that night, I didn’t have another three months for more of this “will we, won’t we, text message” crap, and it’s not like you ran up and gave me the green light. The only thing I could think about was how the angels were probably gonna drag my ass back to Hell the next day. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry, and I’d give anything to take it back.”

Ember was staring at him, her mouth open. Hell, he was surprised at himself – he’d only ever talked about Hell before with Sam. Well, he figured, in for a penny, in for a pound. “You want a relationship? I’ll do a relationship. I’ll suck at it. You’ll always have to worry if I’m dead or not, unless you come hunting with me, and then there’s the matter of the demons. I can’t guarantee that I’ll call you every day, because sometimes I’m getting beat up by things that most people don’t know exist. And I certainly can’t buy you anything nice, unless you really like shit motels. And God knows it’ll piss Bobby the right hell off, but if you’re up for it, let’s do it!”

Ember looked down, her face beat red. Too late, Dean realized that he’d put himself “out there” much more than he meant to during his tirade. There was a brief pause, then Ember said, very quietly, “I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” Dean said, backtracking. Dean searched around for what to say, but the only thing that came to mind was, “Does he know about you?”

There was a pause. “No,” Ember admitted. “We’ve only been dating a month.”

Dean recovered himself, and smirked at her. “Shit, what a waste.”

And then he turned on the radio again.

This sort of crap was why he stuck with one night stands.

***Ember POV***

February 6th, Night

Ember was still reeling from the conversation with Dean on the way to the Pub. She had known he was scared to go back to Hell, but perhaps she hadn’t truly understood the depth of this. He was right, she supposed… she hadn’t exactly put herself out on a silver platter, and perhaps Anna had. Was it justifiable, in his situation, for him to have taken what was willingly given? She thought that perhaps it was. He had never made her any promises. 

And the bigger question: she liked her boyfriend, Eric… maybe even loved him. But, it also occurred to her that she hadn’t thought about him for even a second since she’d gotten the phone call from Bobby that evening. Why was Dean all she could think about? Why had she reacted that strongly to his words, even after all this time?

Ember was so deep in her thoughts that she was hardly paying attention when Dean got out of the car to meet up with Nick in front of the pub. Therefore, it took her a couple of seconds longer than it should have to realize that Nick was the siren.

Should she tell Dean? She thought fast. If she could tell that Nick was the siren, could Nick tell that she was half-demon? It didn’t appear so. He was talking and chatting with Dean like old friends, even though she knew they’d just met today.

Ember’s Cell Phone: **Sam. Nick is the siren. I’m with them at Pub on 45th & Simmons. Come ASAP.**

Shit! How would the siren infect her and Dean? Would it try to infect Dean while Ember was there? Or would it try to infect both of them at once? And then Ember saw it: the siren was passing Dean his drink.

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean ignored the drink long enough to turn around in his seat.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?”

Dean looked her up and down. “You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“I think it would be safer if we both went in with you,” the siren said. “That girl is in there, you know.”

“C’mon, you said she goes after guys,” Ember said. “I’ll be fine. But I really, _really_ gotta go! Look, Dean, I _really_ don’t want to go to the bathroom in your car.”

Dean wrinkled up his face. “Yeah, okay,” he said, “Just come right back..”

Ember made a beeline for the Pub. She met up with Sam behind the pub, about ten minutes later. Bobby was about two seconds behind Sam.

“What’s going on?” they both asked. “Where’s Dean? Where’s the siren?”

“Not sure,” she said, “I wanted to wait until you got here. I don’t know if my powers are a match for his… hers… the siren’s. Whatever. The two of them should be parked in a car out front.”

But the car was gone.

“Do you think they went back to the motel?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Ember said. “Let’s go.”

Back at the motel, the three walked silently upstairs.

“Remember, they’re only expecting one of us, maybe two,” Bobby told Ember and Sam. 

“I’ll go first,” Sam said, and Bobby and Ember both nodded.

As they had predicted, Dean had grabbed hold of Sam and forced a knife to his throat the moment he walked in the door. Ember ducked in around the two of them and attempted to force the siren against the wall, but quickly realized that they were evenly matched. “I thought there was something strange about you,” the siren said to Ember. The siren, though barely able to move, was quickly gaining ground, like a slow winner in a game of air tug-of-war. Meanwhile Bobby had stabbed Dean in the arm with the bronze dagger, and was headed toward the siren. 

Dean let go of Sam after Bobby stabbed him, and Sam attempted to punch him; Dean ducked just in time. The siren attempted to duck out of Bobby’s way and was successful. Ember used all of her power to push the siren sideways toward Bobby, and Bobby made a wild dive, finally throwing the bronze dagger into the siren’s back.

The siren slumped down in front of the mirror, and was silent.

***Ember POV***

February 7th, Morning

“Here’s what I don’t get,” said Sam. It was nearing time for Ember’s plane to board, and the four of them were standing outside the airport in the misty dawn. There hadn’t been enough time to bother with sleeping, so Ember was desperately looking forward to getting some sleep on the plane. “Why did the siren decide to be a guy? I mean, last time I checked, he wasn’t Dean’s usual type.”

Ember thought for a second. “I was wondering about that too,” she admitted. “And I think I understand.”

All three men looked at her, surprised. “OK, so my guess is that by now the siren has gotten pretty good at covering its tracks. And you said the siren showed up at the lab first, right? Where Cara was?” Sam nodded. “So, my guess is that it first showed up there at the lab in a form that it thought would be pleasing to Cara. It must’ve figured she was onto it because of her research with the victims and oxytocin, and it wanted to take her out before things got more complicated… so when you first met it, it was a man.”

“Makes sense,” said Bobby. 

“But that only explains why the siren appeared in the form of a man,” Sam said, “not why it stayed that way.”

Ember nodded. “It must’ve found some kind of weakness, some kind of… desire that wasn’t being met.”

There was silence as they all thought about this. “You sure you didn’t kiss him?” Bobby asked Dean.

“No, dude! Come on! We shared a flask, that was all.”

Ember looked at Dean. “So there wasn’t anything he did, or said, that you liked? Because I know what a lone wolf you are usually, Dean. But I had barely gotten up here when you were calling Nick to help out with this investigation. He must’ve… I don’t know, known how to get you free lap dances, or… didn’t you say he knew all the words to all the classic 80’s songs?”

Dean was definitely looking furious now, and uncomfortable. “Look, we didn’t have a goddamn bromance, okay? He just knew a few good songs! It was the saliva, okay?!” And he walked away.

“Ember, I miss having you around,” Sam said when he was done laughing. “Promise you won’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Ember said. “I do miss hunting with you guys,” she admitted. “We should do something in a couple of months, when things slow down at my job. Text me, okay?”

“Yeah, we will,” Sam promised.

“And Sam?” Ember asked.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever’s going on between you and Dean? Work it out,” she said.

Ember and Sam both looked toward the Impala, where Dean was drinking his soda (Bobby had forgone the usual beer after reminding them that they would both be driving soon) and looking irritable. Ember shared a look with Sam, and she knew that he understood: the siren had capitalized on some sort of insecurity of Dean’s, and it was Sam’s job to get to the bottom of it. Sam smiled. Did this have to do with the demon blood? But it wasn’t the right time to ask… after all, Ember hadn’t seen either of the boys in months.

“I will,” Sam promised.

***Dean POV***

February 17, Early morning

The brothers had thought it would be another month or so before they saw Ember again, but it was only about two weeks. It began when Castiel arrived in their motel room at 5:00 PM in late February. As usual, he didn’t mince words. “Wake up. You’re coming with me.”

Neither brother was used to being awakened out of a dead sleep by the gruff angel, and so both reacted predictably, grabbing weapons from under their pillows and starting toward Castiel before recognition kicked in. “Cas, what the hell!” Dean screamed when he finally recognized the angel.

“You’re coming with me,” Castiel repeated, unfazed. He began to walk toward them with his hands outstretched toward their foreheads.

Dean backed up toward the wall. “Why?”

Castiel looked annoyed, but lowered his arms. “Because I’m not accustomed to dealing with crying women.”

“What?”

“It’s your woman. That girl you keep looking at when you think she’s not looking. The one who won’t have the sex with you. Ember. She killed some demons. She’s very upset about it. She prayed to me. She asked me to kill her, but I have orders that she is best left alive. I am an angel of the Lord. I do not have training in hiding bodies and dealing with crying women. Are you coming, or not?”

Two minutes later, the two brothers and the angel arrived in the living room of Ember’s apartment, across the country. While it had still been bright in their motel room in California, the sun in Indiana was just beginning to set outside of Ember’s window. Ember herself was looking smaller and more frail than Dean had ever seen her before. She wore a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, both of which were covered in blood. She held a large green throw around her, and her eyes were red and bloodshot. Still, she looked irritated. “Why did you have to go and bring back the freaking Winchesters?” she snapped at Castiel.

“They hide bodies,” Castiel filled in, gesturing toward the corner, and Ember winced. In the corner were three bodies, all men. One had been shot, one had two separate stab wounds, and the other appeared simply unconscious. The two dead men had been sloppily covered with trash bags. Dean guessed that Ember refused to touch them, but couldn’t look at them either.

Ember’s words from a few months ago came back to Dean: _“Normally if I have a boyfriend, the demons just stow away in him. It’s easier, and demons are lazy. I can always tell, though.”_

“Who were they?” Dean asked.

Ember’s eyes rose to him, and he saw several tears leak out. “A client of mine. He was… he was only 23. And… my client’s care-taker. And… my boyfriend… he’s the unconscious one. He woke back up after the fight was over, and saw the bodies, and started freaking out… I knocked him back out.” She sighed. “I never should’ve dated him. We were just…” She trailed off. “I didn’t even like him that much, really.” 

Something in Dean’s chest soared, despite itself. Ember shook her head to clear it, missing Dean’s sudden look of hopefulness. “Anyway, I hadn’t told him yet, about me, and I didn’t know what to do… thank God he was wearing the anti-possession charm I got him, or else…” She started to sniffle again. 

Dean crossed the room in two strides and gathered up Ember, holding her close to his chest. It was odd, he thought: even after Anna, and their fight, and the siren, and despite the fact that he had never done this before, the movement felt completely natural. “I’m so sorry, Ember.” He thought for a minute, then added, “I never should’ve let you go back home.”

They stayed there like that for a minute, until Sam shifted awkwardly and began unfurling the trash bags and covering the bodies properly with them. 

“What happened?” Dean asked.

Ember sniffled. “Carl was… he was my last client of the day, and then I headed home. There were two demons. They must’ve gotten my scent back then, and eventually tracked me back here. And Eric, my boyfriend, you know, he didn’t know about… and he just opened the door! And the salt line… they just threw him aside…” Ember was sniffling into Dean’s shirt, and so her voice was muffled. Sam and Cas had both stopped to listen. “I mean, we hadn’t been dating that long… what am I going to do? He’s already seen the bodies…”

Dean held her tighter, allowing her to bury her face in his chest. He knew from experience that it would be better after the bodies were disposed of, so he asked, “What happened then?”

Ember sniffled again. “They both went after me, of course. And I can usually use my powers to fight them off, and my invisibility to dodge them, even if there’s more than one of them. But I couldn’t handle these two at once. So I got the worker first with the revolver, and that held him off a bit while I could get out an exorcism. But the demon inside Carl was so powerful, more powerful than most. And I couldn’t even get the exorcism out, because I had to fight him off, because he could _see_ me… They’ve _never _been able to see me before! And then…” She hiccupped. “Just when I thought I was done for… they just _left._ Just like that, they were both _gone,_ and Carl was dead…” And then Ember cried harder than ever. 

Dean looked at Sam. “Just one more question… did anyone other than the two that died know that those two would be coming here today?”

Ember said some words, but it all came out as a muffled sob. After a wracking breath, she said, “No. They would’ve followed me from work. Their car is outside, it’s a red Toyota. But… what am I going to do about Eric?”

Sam paused in his ministrations with the plastic bag to shoot Dean a meaningful look, and Dean nodded. “Sam and I will take care of everything,” Dean said. “Cas, will you stay with her for one second? We need to coordinate.” 

Castiel nodded once, and went over to sit by Ember on the sofa. Dean gave Castiel a stern look, gesturing to Ember. Before Dean disappeared into the other room with Sam, he overheard the angel say, “If it is any comfort to you, your friends are most likely in heaven now.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Sam asked Dean. “Ask Cas to wipe the boyfriend’s memories?”

“Obviously.”

“What about the bodies?”

“Is there a lake nearby?” Dean asked. “What are our options?”

Sam shook his head. “This is different. If we dump them too close to here, someone will find the car, and then the bodies, and it’ll lead to Ember. She was the last person to see them. We need to make the whole thing go away.”

Dean thought for a moment. “South Dakota, then?”

Sam nodded. “Probably best. I’ll take the Toyota and the two bodies up there, after we convince Cas to deal with the boyfriend.”

“Cool. Call Bobby on the way and tell him we’ll be joining you soon.”

“Yup.”

Dean refused to leave Ember’s side that evening, even after Castiel had taken Eric and disappeared to wherever angels go, and Sam had taken the bodies in the Toyota and headed for South Dakota.

Ember’s mother showed up about an hour later. “I know you have other places to be,” Ember said quietly to Dean in a private moment. “I can’t thank you enough for what you and Sam did for me. I didn’t want to… I just didn’t have the strength to do it myself. You can… you can go now. I know you have other things to do.”

Dean searched her eyes. “Do you want me to leave?’

Without hesitation, Ember answered, “No.” Then, hesitantly, she added, “I’m scared they might come back.”

Ember’s mother gave her a look of shock, and Ember averted her eyes. “Carl was my client, my responsibility. I won’t risk this happening again, to anyone. Especially not to you, Mom. I’m going to quit my job and move in with Bobby. Maybe… maybe when you...” She looked at Dean with determination. “I mean, when _we_, get Lilith figured out, maybe then I can go back to…” But she had dissolved into tears again, and her mother pulled her close this time.

“I hate to say it, but she’s right, Ms. Nelson,” Dean said. “She’s safest with Bobby and I. I’ll stay with her until she can get her affairs sorted here, and then we’ll head to South Dakota.”

And so it was decided. 

***Ember POV***

February 17, Evening

After Ember’s mother left, she took a heavy sleeping pill and passed out. Despite Dean’s promise to stay, she hadn’t expected him to do so after the first night. His large, sleeping form in the chair next to her bed scared her half to death when she first awakened on the day after the incident, but she had to admit she was glad he was there. If he hadn’t been there, she felt certain that her mother would’ve insisted on staying instead, and that, at the moment, was too dangerous. Those two demons were still out there, somewhere, not to mention others. Plus, she wasn’t even sure if the more powerful one could be kept out with salt lines. He had been so strong…

Ember’s mother had always been able to take care of herself. For as long as Ember could remember, her mother had kept up the salt lines, and there had always been devil traps under the rugs growing up. They had lived a demon-free life until Ember was 13, when things had gotten ugly for awhile. 

By the time she was 16, however, Ember had learned to exorcise the demons, and her invisibility had helped her dodge the demons until she could do so. She hadn’t had to make a kill since she was 15… until now.

Now, it felt like she was 14 all over again.

On the day after the incident, Ember called her work and explained the situation: her father in South Dakota was having health problems, and needed her immediately. Bobby would confirm from the proper area code on the other end if anybody had any questions. She would have to leave the job in 3 days. Nobody argued with dying fathers.

Over the next few days, Dean helped Ember pack her apartment along with her mother and her best friend Mike. He was kind to her mother, calling her “Mrs. Nelson” and “Ma’am.” He chatted with Mike about guns and cars, and the two of them worked together in goofy attempts to make Ember smile. Each day she reminded him that he was free to go, and that surely he had other things to do.

“Do you want me to leave?” he would ask.

“No,” she said honestly. Not until she was away from the people she loved.

Dean also went with her to say good-bye to all of her clients and to finish up last-minute paperwork. He never stayed in sight, but she felt sure he was always watching. It surprised her, then, when on the morning of the fourth day, he didn’t meet her back at the apartment like he had promised. Perhaps he had had enough, she thought. She couldn’t be good company; she’d been sulking for days, had barely smiled, and had made him sleep on the chair in her room (if he insisted) or the sofa in the living room (if she insisted). Perhaps this was best, she thought; she’d be at Bobby’s by the end of the day anyway.

Instead, Dean showed up at the apartment twenty minutes later.

“You’re covered in blood!” she exclaimed, ushering him in quickly.

“One of your demon friends from the other day found me,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and wincing. “Did you know that guy with dreadlocks who was hanging out outside your work?”

“God, you’re hurt!” Ember exclaimed, helping him out of his jacket, which was torn. The sleeve of his black flannel shirt was covered in dried blood. “No, I didn’t know him… how did you know he was one of the demons from the other day?”

“Started taunting me about it,” Dean answered. 

“What happened?” Ember asked. “Did you…”

“Exorcised. Barely.” Dean began removing his shirt, slowly. 

Ember was reminded, briefly, of another time in the hot tub, and Dean’s shirtless form glistening in the water. The sight of a large slash on his shoulder brought her quickly back to reality, however.

Dean caught her looking at the cut. “It’s just a scratch, don’t worry. Won’t even need stitches, I don’t think. Look, it’s already clotting.”

Ember helped Dean clean the wound, wrapping it with a clean cloth. “Are you ready to go?” he asked her when they were finished, and he gingerly put his shirt back on.

“Yeah… you’re sure we shouldn’t take you to a hospital?”

Dean laughed. “I’ve been way worse off than this and not gone to a hospital. Seriously, it’s barely a flesh wound. Plus, we need to get gone, the sooner the better. I’m pretty sure that was the less powerful of the two demons you met the other day.” Dean laughed. “Not the brightest bulb in the shed, either. Let’s go, before the other one gets here.”

Ember smiled wryly. Finally, she took one last look at her Indiana apartment and slid into her PT Cruiser, driving toward the South Dakota sun.

***Dean POV***

February 21, Late evening

“Glad you’re back,” Sam said while the two of them helped unload Ember’s belongings late that evening. “I caught us a case.”

“Yeah?”

“Looks like. Vampires again, I think. If we leave tonight, we can be in New Hampshire by the morning.” He stopped. “Unless…” he looked at Ember, who was carrying in her bedding. 

Dean shook his head. “It’d be too weird if I stayed. She’s gotta do her thing. Bobby should keep her safe.” 

Ember hadn’t cried since the day of the incident, and he’d even made her smile a few times. Best of all, he had a feeling that she no longer resented his presence, and even welcomed him again – as a protector, as a friend, and maybe more. He had thought she had eyed him when he’d taken his shirt off earlier to inspect his cut, but perhaps he’d been light-headed from the blood loss.

He also knew, however, that she wasn’t the type to be constantly followed around and watched. She would need some independence in South Dakota, and Bobby could take care of himself enough that she wouldn’t have to be worried about the demons she would attract. He had a feeling she was itching to stretch her legs and begin a life for herself.

Ember nodded in understanding when he told her the news. “Dean… you were really there for me, when I needed you most.”

She looked up at him from under her lashes, and he felt his heart melting. She was moving closer. Was she going to kiss him? Should he move away?

“I mean… it’s too early for me to think about...” She smiled shyly, and he knew immediately where she was going with this odd conversation. “If in a few weeks, if you still feel like being in a relationship… let me know, okay? The only thing I can guarantee is that it won’t be as miserable for you as the last four days have been. I suppose it can only improve from here.”

Dean fought down the surge of hope he felt in his heart, and the lurch from somewhere around his stomach. “I would like that,” he said honestly, and it sounded deeper and huskier than he had expected.

“Thank you,” Ember said. “Thank you so much, for everything over the past few days.” And she kissed him on the cheek. She smelled like shampoo, and like everything he remembered longing for when he had been in Hell. And when, hours later, he was driving the Impala through the Midwest, he could still feel where her lips had burned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played around, for this chapter, with making the siren some echo or incomplete or different version of Ember for Dean, but in the end I decided I liked it better the way it was. Do you? Let me know in your reviews.  
Also: I thought a lot about whether or not I should kill off the boyfriend here, and at first I had killed him off. But it didn't make sense for Ember's character and what I wanted for later in the story, and I felt like she would've been too damaged to have had a relationship with Dean for another few years if I had done things that way.


	5. Death Takes a Holiday

***Sam POV***

March 17, Late evening

**ONE MONTH LATER**

“He’s in love with her, isn’t he?” Bobby asked Sam. Sam and Dean had come back to Bobby’s for the first time in a month. Ember had gone off with Dean (somewhere), and Sam and Bobby were poring over lore books about Lucifer and Lilith in the cramped library room.

Sam looked up, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna lie, Bobby, I’ve never seen him like this.” Laughter danced in his eyes. “You should’ve seen him when he left your house a month back. I’ve seen him get laid and be less happy about it.”

Bobby frowned. 

“They’ve gone back to texting on and off again, like they did last fall,” Sam continued. “And then, two nights ago, there was this blond in a bar, definitely Dean’s usual type,” Sam continued. “I thought he was going to chat her up, but then she came and told me he had ducked out and said he’d had to head back to the motel.”

Bobby raised his eyebrow. “And what did _you_ do?”

Sam gave Bobby a shy smile, remembering the feel of the blond girl as she squirmed below him.

“Idgits,” Bobby groaned.

The next day, Ember asked Sam and Dean if she could hunt with them, just for awhile. “I’m not getting any younger,” she told them. “There aren’t any good therapist jobs here. And maybe if I help you with the whole Lilith thing, it’ll go faster.”

Dean looked like Christmas had come early.

***Ember POV***

March 18, Evening

The next day, as luck would have it, a case fell into their hands. Bobby called them during their morning run to a café for food. By evening, Ember, Dean, and Sam were trying to track down a ghost – not to kill it, but to talk to it.

The first step was a séance in a graveyard.

“This job is jacked,” said Dean, who looked irritated beyond belief.

“How so?”

“You want me to gank a monster or torch a corpse, hey, let’s light it up, right? But this? If we fix whatever this is, people are gonna start dropping dead. Good people.” 

“Look, I don’t want them to die either, Dean,” said Sam. “But there’s a… natural order.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Dean asked. 

“What?”

“You don’t see the irony in that? I mean, you and me, we’re like the poster boys of the unnatural order. All we do is ditch death,” Dean responded. Ember’s head moved back and forth, staring at both brothers in the light from the candles.

“Yeah, but the normal rules don’t really apply to us, do they?” Sam asked. 

Dean laughed. “We’re no different than anybody else!” 

“I’m infected with demon blood,” Sam said. “You’ve been to Hell. Look, I know you want to think of yourself as Joe the plumber, Dean, but you’re not. Neither am I. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’re gonna be.”

“Ah, Joe the plumber was a douche,” Dean said, looking at Ember for support.

“He’s right, Dean,” she said softly. 

“You too?” Dean said irritably. “Really?”

Ember shrugged. 

“No offense,” said Dean, whose tone had become lighter, “but isn’t the whole half-demon, ‘you still being an upstanding citizen’ thing… I don’t know, fighting _against_ that natural order?”

Ember glared at him. She knew he hadn’t meant it as an insult, but she was still slightly irked at the question. “No… that’s more like me having a choice about what I decide to do with my life, and making the correct one. Speaking of which… if we save people that are bound for Heaven – people that are supposed to die, as a fact of life… I mean, I can’t think of a quicker way to piss off Heaven than that. I’m not a fan of killing innocent people, but I, for one, am entirely in favor of finding the reaper and restoring things to their natural order.”

Dean pouted, and Sam glared at him. “Are you gonna help me finish this?” he asked, gesturing to the array of candles.

Suddenly, from nowhere, a man yelled, “Hey!”

Ember froze. Stepping out from the shadows was the demon who had come for her at her home. He was in a different meat suit, but she would recognize him anywhere by the power that emanated from him. “Demon,” she said immediately to Sam and Dean. Dean pulled out his knife, and Sam his shot-gun.

“Don’t waste your time,” the demon said, and his eyes rolled back in his head, turning them white.

“Alastair,” Dean said immediately.

“You know him?” Ember said, surprised out of her fear. 

Dean ignored her. “I thought you got deep-fried, extra crispy.” And with trepidation, Ember noted that there was just a tinge of fear behind Dean’s eyes.

“Nah,” the demon said. “Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife’s still looking for him. It’s hilarious. Anyway… no time to chat. Got a hot date with death.”

Two things happened then, simultaneously. First, Alastair raised his hand and sent Dean flying backward into a gravestone. Second, Ember used her powers with all her might, and Alastair went flying back into a second gravestone. Alastair recovered himself quickly, and Sam started chanting an exorcism as quickly as he could, running forward to punch Alastair while he did so. Alastair dove backward and, holding out his hand, used his own immense powers against Ember and Sam.

Ember knew immediately that she was going to lose. She could feel that Alastair was far more powerful than she was, though she could put up a good fight. This was it. She had never even kissed Dean Winchester. And she couldn’t even be sure she’d get into Heaven… “I can see why Lilith is so interested in you,” Alastair said suddenly, looking her straight in the eye. Ember lost her concentration for a split second, a distraction which cost her dearly. She slid backward a few paces, now backed against a large headstone with Alastair towering over her. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the pressure lifted, and Ember saw (to her immense relief), a billowing black cloud erupt from Alastair’s mouth. Her relief turned to horror as she realized that Sam had used his own powers to exorcise the demon.

“Sam…” Ember said to him. That word was full of emotion: relief, disappointment, gratefulness, and fury. And for a second, Sam looked at her with the most twisted, lustful smile she had ever seen on any demon.

Then the moment passed, and Sam’s face tensed into one of worried relief. He ran quickly over to Dean. “Dean! Ember, he’s out cold.”

Ember rushed over to Dean as well, putting her hand on his neck. “Just unconscious,” she confirmed.

Sam rushed over to Dean and propped him up gingerly, then smacked him lightly on the face. Dean’s eyes popped open suddenly, and he scrambled to sit up, but Sam held him down. “Sit a second,” he told Dean. “You were knocked out.”

“Fuck!” Dean screamed into the night air, recovering his faculties quickly. “I hate that bastard! How did you get rid of him?”

Sam and Ember looked at each other. “Ember’s and my powers combined,” Sam said. It was mostly the truth.

“How do you know him?” Ember asked Dean.

“It’s a long story,” Dean answered grudgingly, sagging in a sitting position against a headstone. “But he’s the worst of the worst.”

Ember nodded. “He was the other demon who came to my house that night,” Ember said.

She had expected some sort of reaction to this, but not the one Dean gave. “He was – what?!” Dean scrambled to his feet. “I swear to God, next time I see that mother fucker, I’ll kill him. I’ll – I’ll fucking - …”

“Dean!” both Sam and Ember screamed at the same time, and Dean whirled around, his eyes blazing with fury.

“He can’t go around-…” Dean started.

Sam cut him off. “Dean, he obviously finds ways to keep popping back up. And I, for one, am not going to wait on it to happen again. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Half an hour later, Dean finally exited the small motel room into the bathroom to take a shower. Sam immediately stated that he was going to go out and grab some food, but Ember used her powers to shut the door in front of him. “We’re going to talk first,” she said. She knew Sam wouldn’t dare use his own powers to exit the room, not now when his actions were so crucial to their friendship.

She was right, and Sam gave an irritated sigh, but his shoulders sagged. “We can’t talk here,” he said. “You could come with me, though.”

Ember narrowed her eyes, suspicious of him, but he said, by way of explanation, “I’m hungry. And Dean will be out of the shower soon, and he’s not as clueless as he acts.”

Ember nodded finally, and Sam walked over to the bathroom door. “Ember and I are going for food!” he yelled through the door.

“Okay, get me pie!” Dean yelled back, and Ember saw Sam smile softly.

For the first two minutes of the ride to the nearest fast-food joint, both Sam and Ember were silent. Ember’s jaw was working, and Sam kept shooting her looks that were a mixture of ashamed and defiant. Finally, she said, “I thought you promised to _tell me _when you were back on demon blood?”

“I was going to, I promise I was,” Sam said. “I’m not stupid. I know you need to know. The first time I had an opportunity to do so without Dean, I was going to tell you.”

“So you’re still not planning on telling him where you’re getting your powers.”

Sam sighed. “Look. I know you don’t approve, and I understand-…” Ember gave him a scathing look, but he continued. “No, _really_. I _know_ why you don’t approve. And I’m not going to lie, I can _definitely_ feel the effects of the blood when I’m around you.”

Ember was pretty sure he wasn’t coming onto her, but she hadn’t expected him to be that blunt about his reaction to her “demon attraction issues”, either. This threw her off guard.

“Look, Ember, I’m not stupid, okay?” Sam continued. “You’re my brother’s girl. Maybe you don’t know this, but you always have been, from day one. Maybe you always will be, because I’ve never seen him act around a girl the way he acts around you.”

If Sam was trying to throw her even further off-balance, he was doing a very good job. 

“This whole thing is temporary, and of the two of us, Dean is the one that thinks with his downstairs brain,” Sam said. “I promise – I swear on everything I have ever loved – that I will never hurt you. Just please, _please _don’t tell Dean. At _least_ until we figure out this apocalypse thing. I mean… you owe me that much. I _did_ just save you _and_ Dean.”

Ember sighed. He had a point, though she wanted to argue it. But she had conditions. “Fine,” she said. “Look, I’m not your keeper. I don’t have any control over your life. It’s a stupid idea, but it’s nothing on me. I have one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That you fight me.”

“What?” Sam said, clearly alarmed. “Ember, I’m not going to-…”

“No, hear me out,” Ember said as they pulled into the fast food drive-through. “No playing dirty. No hurting, no maiming, no sending each other flying into things. Not that kind of fighting. Just like… air tug of war.”

They pulled up to the window at that point, and it was another five minutes before they picked up the conversation again.

“What would be the point of me fighting you?” Sam asked. “I’m on a steady diet. I’m taking the same amount each time, and I haven’t lost control yet.”

Ember turned to face him. “I’m pretty sure I’m stronger than you. Your power only works on demons, and I’m only _half _demon, so they shouldn’t have the same effect on me that they would on _full _demons. But I need to know for sure.”

“Ember, if I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already,” Sam protested.

Ember glared. “If you want to keep your brother in the dark, even for another hour, _this_ is what I’m asking. I need to know that if you lose control, I can still keep you away. I don’t want to have to kill you, and I don’t want Dean or Bobby to have to kill you later.”

“I’m _not _going to-…” Sam muttered, but he broke off at Ember’s glare. “_Fine_,” he said softly, twisting his hands irritably on the wheel. ”But if you get hurt, _you _get to answer to Dean.”

Ten minutes later, they were in a very large open field, which was slightly lit up by two streetlights.

“Okay, first thing’s first,” Ember said. “And you have to be totally, completely honest. Okay? I’m giving you one last chance here, Sam Winchester.”

“Shoot,” he said irritably.

Ember went invisible. “Can you see me?” she asked.

Sam’s head whipped around, realizing that her voice was traveling behind him. “Hold on, stay still for a second, I think I see…” Ember stopped.

“Just vaguely, I think I see… it’s like, a glimmer, I guess. Are you… there?” he held up his hand, and touched soft clothing.

“Yup. You can see me then.”

“Not really,” Sam said. “It’s more like… like when you look at something through a shimmery fog.”

“You’re not supposed to see even that,” Ember said, frowning.

“Walk around me for a second,” Sam said, ignoring her. “And don’t just walk… run and duck and bend and wiggle a bit. Let me see if I can touch you.” He couldn’t, for the most part. He got her a few times out of sheer, dumb luck, but for the most part she may as well have been invisible.

“You better be being honest with me,” she growled at him, becoming visible to him once again.

“Ember, the biggest tip I have is if you’re worried about demons, mask your scent.”

“When I’m hunting _demons_, I _will_,” she said. “I just didn’t realize I’d be hanging out with demons _tonight_.” Sam shot her a hurt glare. “Oh, don’t get all offended, I wasn’t talking about you,” she snapped. “Although, I wasn’t _not_ talking about you,” she grumbled, and Sam sent her a scathing look. “I just don’t fancy dousing myself in pig swilt or whatever unless there’s a good reason,” she explained.

He stopped, looking surprised. “You don’t have to douse yourself in pig swilt,” he said. “Man-made products would be much better.” He smiled at her. “Dean’s cologne might hide you entirely.” They both laughed for a second, and she realized she was becoming comfortable around him again.

“Okay, now for the fight.”

“I’m not fighting you.”

“Whatever. Okay, here’s what I want you to do. Walk about… I don’t know, maybe 12 steps away from me.” Sam did. “Okay, now hit me. Try to force me back a few feet, like Alastair did.”

“I’m not going to do that. I don’t want to throw you across the football field.”

“Think you’re stronger than me?” she challenged.

“I have no idea how strong you actually are,” he confessed.

“Fine,” she said. “Use low-level powers, and then work your way up. See how much it takes to move me.”

Sam sighed. “Okay,” he said, and used his mind to push at her feet.

Ember didn’t move. “Looking good so far,” she said. “Take it up a notch.”

Sam did. Ember dug her heels into the ground and braced herself, but otherwise still didn’t move.

“Still looking good, weakling,” she taunted him, “Take it up another notch.”

He laughed. “Okay, fine, Ember. You win. I’m going full power. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Yeah, hit me!” she said. She didn’t feel anything at first, and she could tell that Sam was turning up his power gradually, instead of hitting her with it all at once. A few seconds later, however, it was taking her a colossal effort to resist against his force. She could feel the wind whistling past her head from his wall of force, and twigs and branches moved around her at high speed. She leaned over and used all fours to brace herself, but her feet still didn’t move.

“Okay,” she said, and he stopped. “This time, hit me with everything at once.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“I’m braced,” she answered.

“Okay,” he said, and hit her hard, with all of his power. She dug her heals into the ground again, and slid back a full two feet.

Sam stopped immediately, shame peppering his face in the streetlamp. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Ember smiled. At some point, she realized, this had become more a friendly test of power than a practice for how safe she was around him. “No worries, I haven’t gone on the offensive yet,” she said. “Okay, this time, I’m going to count to three. When I say ‘Go’, hit me with your full power.”

“And what are you going to do?” Sam asked.

“I’m gonna send you flying,” she said honestly. “Not very far, though.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asked. He had begun to stretch his legs, like a runner warming up.

“Yeah,” said Ember. “I’ve got a pretty good idea where your force powers are at. I shouldn’t send you too far.”

Sam nodded. “One… two… three… GO!” Ember yelled. At the same time, both of them held up their hands and pushed against each other. The force of it sent Ember backward onto her behind. Sam, however, went skidding a full ten feet backward, ultimately landing on his behind as well.

Together, they both started laughing. Sam recovered first, and hurried to help Ember up. “So… can I keep my secret for a little while longer?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I still think you’re an idiot,” she said. “But I guess the Apocalypse brings out the demon in all of us.”

On the way back, Ember had a few more questions for Sam. “So… what you said about pig swilt and cologne… how do you know?”

He looked at her in the light of the Impala, and she could tell that his face was red again, and that he didn’t want to answer. “It’s a…” he wrestled uncomfortably with the words. “It’s not that your scent has to be masked by a… another natural scent. You’re not deer hunting. You’re… your scent has to be masked by _any_ other scent. I mean, it feels like it’s partially pheromones, and partially smell. Or maybe the smell triggering pheromones. Or, in my case, the smell triggering the blood.”

Ember thought about this for a second. “Thanks,” she said. “I suppose that makes things a lot easier. And… it’ll probably make things smell better, too.” She thought for a second longer, then asked, “Sam… what do I smell like, to demons?”

Sam took awhile to answer. Just when Ember was sure he was going to ignore her and had decided to let the subject die, he said, “Sex on a stick.”

Ember’s head whipped around. She hadn’t expected this.

He shrugged. “You asked me to be totally honest. I’m being totally honest. But Ember, I’ve never really thought about…”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off. 

“To me… you’re just Ember,” he said. “I can separate…” he paused. “What has to do with the demon blood, and what doesn’t. For example, this feeling was least strong during our time with Anna, when I had been off the blood for awhile. It was somewhat stronger when I first met you I think, though I wasn’t really thinking about it, what with Dean getting back from Hell and all. And it’s strongest now. But… until I get a whiff, you’re… you’re just Ember. You’re my brother’s girl.”

There it was again. “I don’t recall him agreeing to that,” Ember said.

“I don’t think he can help it,” Sam said. “Give him time.”

Ember sighed, and took a sip of the smoothie she’d just bought from the drive-through. “Last question,” she said.

“Yeah?” Sam asked.

“What do you think that… that Alastair demon meant? About Lilith wanting me?”

“No idea,” Sam said after a long pause. “But I wasn’t going to wait around to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much enjoyed writing this chapter. I haven't done (and probably won't do) a lot of chapters that delve into the friendship dynamic between Sam and Ember, but this ended up being a really good chapter for that. They are, and will remain, only friends... sorry, it's just the demon blood making it seem otherwise. By the way, I've got a whole bunch of twists up ahead, the "Alastair" twist being the first of many. Hope you enjoy, please review.


	6. On the Head of a Pin

***Ember POV***

March 20, Afternoon 

After Alastair’s appearance in the graveyard, this particular hunting trip hadn’t been all that eventful, Ember thought. Not for her anyway – not like it was for Sam and Dean. Lore revealed that the likeliest scenario had been that two reapers had been kidnapped to break another seal: “Basically, you kill a reaper under the solstice moon – tomorrow night, by the way – you got yourself a broken seal,” Sam stated.

At that point, the brothers had decided that to go looking for the reapers, they would need to perform astral projection. Therefore, Pamela was brought back from Illinois to put them into a deep, deathly sleep. Ember’s job was to protect Pamela. This turned out to be difficult, but not incredibly. A demon had snuck in, of course, but not the one Ember was worried about. Ember had exorcised the man, and first Sam and then Dean had been brought back from their trance safely. Pamela had sworn never to see the boys again and demanded to be taken back the next morning, which Ember supposed was fair. It was common-place, by now, for Ember to use her powers to fight off low-level demons, but she doubted Pamela would have survived if she hadn’t been there.

Unfortunately, Dean’s mood had taken a nose-dive after seeing Alastair. Neither brother would tell Ember how Dean knew Alastair. Sam told her that it was “Dean’s secret to tell.” Ember had given up on asking Dean, because it typically made him unconsciously palm the nearest weapon and brood for an extended period of time. Even when the angels managed to capture Alastair with Dean’s help, his mood did not improve. Ember had never thought that hunting would be glamorous, but she’d also never thought it would be like this: one brother brooding over his time in Hell and out for vengeance, and another secretly guzzling demon blood.

Perhaps most worrying was the comment about Lilith having plans for her, but bringing that up with the brothers would have required bringing up Alastair again, and she only made that mistake once. “I swear to God, as soon as I find out where the angels are keeping him, I’ll kill that mother fucker,” Dean said. Then he’d downed so much alcohol at one time that Ember hadn’t needed Sam’s pleading look to know it was time to be quiet.

Still, they had saved a seal, so that was something. Dean wasn’t particularly happy about this either, however. He returned from his astral projection with the news that Castiel and Uriel had manipulated the entire thing. Apparently, the angels had been banned from the building housing the kidnapped reapers due to angel proofing, “And so they had us do their dirty work instead!” Dean shouted angrily.

“Dean, we’d have helped them anyway,” Ember responded patiently. The comment only earned her a scathing look from Dean and a pleading look from Sam.

The biggest surprise came, however, upon arriving in their hotel room in Illinois after dropping off Pamela. 

Uriel and Castiel were waiting for them in their hotel room with a new job for them to do… specifically, a new job for Dean to do.

Dean was not happy to see them. “Stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freaking minutes!” he exclaimed.

“We raised you out of Hell for our purposes,” Uriel responded.

“Yeah, and what were those again?” Dean asked. “What exactly do you want from me?”

“Start with gratitude,” the angel said slyly.

“Dean, we know this is difficult to understand,” Castiel started.

“And _we… don’t… care,”_ Uriel added. Ember hated him.

“Seven angels have been murdered,” began Uriel. “All of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight.”

“Demons?” Dean asked, and Ember moved so that she could see both Dean and the angel. “How are they doing it?”

“We don’t know,” Uriel answered.

“I’m sorry, but what do you want us to do about it?” asked Sam. “I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?”

“We can handle the demons, thank you very much,” said Uriel, with a scathing look toward Ember.

“Don’t you look at her like that,” Dean snapped at him.

“But first, we have to find whoever is killing them,” Castiel said, cutting Dean off.

“Don’t you have Alastair?” Ember spoke up.

“He should be able to name your triggerman,” Dean added.

“But he won’t talk,” Castiel said. “Alastair’s will is very strong. We’ve arrived at an impasse.”

“Yeah, well, he’s like a black belt in torture. You guys are out of your league,” Dean taunted.

“That’s why we’ve come to his student,” Uriel said.

Dean froze. The look he shot at Ember, in that moment – a look of pure fear and shame – broke her heart.

“You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we’ve got,” Uriel said.

“Dean… you’re our best hope,” Castiel said.

All at once, everything clicked together in Ember’s mind. “_I thought I was going back to Hell the next day! Do you know what Hell is like?... The only thing I could think about was how the angels were probably gonna drag my ass back to Hell the next day, and you have no fucking idea what that’s like!”_

And Ember knew, too, how demons were made. She knew demons were formed by humans who had been tortured for years in Hell. To be honest, she had suspected for some time that Dean was farther on his way to becoming a demon himself than he was willing to admit. She knew there was normal human attraction between them (an awful lot, to be honest), but she had also suspected for some time that their attraction was related in some small part to the permanent tarnish on his soul. 

Now she knew for sure. “Dean,” she whispered.

He took a long look at her, and she could tell by the look on his face that she’d been right about his attraction to her, and he knew it, too. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to be in a relationship… Dean truly was a good man.

“No. No way,” he answered. “You can’t ask me to do this, Cas, not this.”

“Who said anything,” Uriel said, “about asking?” And then Dean and the angels disappeared.

***Dean POV***

March 20, Afternoon

How many times in Hell had he fantasized about torturing Alastair? A million? A trillion? But never, never once, had it occurred to him that he might actually have the chance. Was this luck, or was it something else? 

The irony of the situation was that now that he finally had the chance, he was 100% sure with all of his being that he didn’t want to. He would never, ever forgive himself for the things he’d done in Hell. The look on Ember’s face when she had realized what he had done in Hell played in his minds’ eye as he wheeled out the torture instruments. She would never forgive him now, not now that she understood the true nature of his attraction to her. He knew he couldn’t realistically blame _all_ of his attraction to her on his time in Hell, or even 50%... but even attributing a small amount of this attraction to her “demonic attraction issues” was too much. She must hate him.

Or perhaps she didn’t, and she pitied him instead. He wasn’t sure which was worse. It was a shame… things had been going so well with her, lately. He’d almost thought, for a second, that he could really love her, and be loved in return. But, if she ever forgave him for what he’d done in Hell, and for not telling her about it, she’d certainly never forgive him for this.

He was like Alastair now, he thought miserably. He was a half demon, or part demon, like Ember. And his “special skill” was torture. That’s why they had called him to torture: the angels knew it, too. In desperation, and facing a torture session, Dean turned his mind to anger before Alastair had a chance to read his emotions. He remembered the look on Ember’s face when Alastair had come to her house that night, though neither of them had known it was Alastair at the time. Castiel’s words from that night came back to him: _She killed some demons. She’s very upset about it. She prayed to me. She asked me to kill her._ Anger flared through him, until finally his keenly trained instincts kicked in. He felt the serene calm of the on-coming job flare within him, a feeling he knew well. He faced Alastair with an impassive smile. Yes, this would be an interesting torture session.

As Dean had expected, Alastair began to laugh when he realized the angels’ plan. “Are they _serious?_ They sent _you _to torture _me?”_

It was odd, Dean thought. Although Alastair looked different than the demon who had tortured him for so many years, it was easy to connect the demon inside the meat suit with the hateful feelings and the nightmares that had plagued Dean for almost a year now. He could _feel_ that it was Alastair. “You got one chance,” he said. “One. Tell me who is killing the angels. I want a name.”

“You think I’ll see all your scary toys and spill my guts?”

“Oh, you’ll spill your guts one way or another. I just didn’t want to ruin my shoes.” It was a classic Alastair line, Dean thought. He was good at this – he was a natural, and he knew it. But Alastair had been his teacher. Dean knew better than to hope he would break any time in the next few hours, if not days… if at all. Ultimately, it depended on how determined Alastair was to keep his information a secret. If he was especially determined, Alastair may never break. For now, both of them were just warming up. “Now answer the question.”

“Or what?” Alastair taunted. “You’ll work me over? But then… maybe… you don’t want to. Maybe you’re a-ha-ha scared to.”

Dean smiled. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Not entirely. You left part of yourself in the pit. Let’s see if we can get the two of you back together again, shall we?” 

Dean had forgotten just how good at this Alastair was. Truthfully, he _was_ scared, even now. It was as he had told Cas… “If you ask me to open that door and walk through it… you will not like what walks back out.” Still, with Alastair here in front of him, and the thought of the torture in Hell flaring in his mind, he did not let the other man see his fear. He felt the quiet calm of torture settle in his mind, a sereneness Alastair had taught him well. “You’re gonna be disappointed,” he said.

“You have not disappointed me so far,” Alastair said. “Come on… you gotta want a little payback for everything I did to you… for all the pokes and prods?”

Dean remained impassive. This was the first thing he’d thought Alastair would taunt him with, and he more than expected it.

“No? Then… how about all the things I did to your Daddy? ‘Had your pop on my rack for most of a century.”

Apparently Alastair had decided he hadn’t hit any nails on the head with his discussion of Dean’s Hell-related weaknesses. Now he had gone for another of Dean’s old sore spots, which was also expected. “Can’t stall forever,” Dean said.

“John Winchester made quite a name for himself. A hundred years. And after each session, I’d make him the same offer I made you. I’d put down my blade if he picked one up.”

Dean smiled to himself. He knew what was coming. “Just give me the demon’s name, Alastair.” 

“But, he said ‘nein’… each and every time. Damned if I couldn’t break him. Pulled out all the stops… but John, he was made of something unique. The stuff of heroes.” Dean knew what was coming next: taunting about how easily he had broken. Those feelings were to be dealt with outside of this room, however. Instead, he felt a surge of pride for his father.

“And then came Dean. Dean Winchester.” Yes, Dean thought, here it came. Alastair was nothing if not predictable. “I thought I was up against it again. But Daddy’s little girl… he broked. He broked in 30. Just not the man your Daddy wanted you to be, huh Dean?”

And just when Dean thought he had control, he lost it, just for a second. A second of weakness, and he knew Alastair had seen it. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said. 

Dean still had the instruments, he reminded himself. He still had control.

“Holy water!” Alastair shouted as he saw what Dean was doing. “Come on! Grasshopper, you’re gonna have to get creative to impress me!”

Time to take control back. “You know something, Alastair?” Dean said. “I could still dream, even in Hell. And over and over and over, you know what I dreamt? I dreamt of this moment. And believe me… I got a few ideas.” And, out of the corner of his eye, before Alastair could hide it, Dean saw just a sliver of fear. “Let’s get started,” he said.

***Ember POV***

March 20, Evening

Ember had never been so happy to see a demon in her life as she was when Ruby walked through the doors to their motel room.

It was short-lived, however.

“He can’t do it,” Sam said.

“Look, I get it,” said Ruby. “You don’t want him going all torture-master again…”

“No, I mean he _can’t do it,” _said Sam. “He can’t get the job done. Something happened to him downstairs, Ruby.” He shot Ember a look of apology. Ember knew he had meant to let Dean tell her about his time in Hell… but there simply wasn’t time for that anymore. “He’s not what he used to be. He’s not strong enough.”

“And you are?” Ruby asked.

“I will be,” Sam answered.

There was a certain understanding between both Sam and Ember, now. Ember had fought Sam tooth and nail on the demon blood issue. She had drug him out into a field in the middle of the night, and sent him sprawling across said field just to prove that she could. She had given him scathing looks, threatened him with tattling to his brother, and treated him like the plague. But now, with Dean’s life (and, more importantly, his soul) in question, she had no argument.

“Ruby, it’s been weeks,” Sam said. “I need it.” 

“You don’t seem too happy about it,” Ruby commented.

“You think I want to do this?” Sam asked. “This is the last thing I…” He sighed, and sent Ember a look which was pleading, yet defiant. “I need to be strong enough.”

“Wait,” Ember said, and Sam looked at her defiantly. A thought had struck her, suddenly, and she needed the answer before things went further.

“Ruby, how come… how come some demons can control themselves? How come you’ve never tried anything… with me?”

Ruby laughed, and sent Ember a scathing look. “What, you think you’re the only being with demon blood who can delay gratification? How do you control your demon instincts?”

Ember was stunned. “So… if demons can control themselves… why don’t they?”

Ruby shrugged. “It’s no fun. Being a demon is all about doing whatever you want and not caring. But not all of us are like that.” She stared at Ember seriously. “And Sam, like yourself, is not a full demon. He can make a choice to walk away, demon blood or no demon blood. So give him a break, will you? He’s not going to hurt you.” She smiled. “Besides,” she added, climbing onto Sam’s lap on the bed. Sam gave Ember a resigned, uncomfortable look, clearly begging her to leave. “He has me for that kind of thing.”

Ember rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna wait outside,” she said. “Sam, if you go anywhere without me, I’ll kill you myself. Tell me when everybody’s done.”

***Dean POV***

March 21, Early morning

It had been hours. Alastair was sweating and bloody, and Dean still had the upper hand, which included a lock on his own mind. He hadn’t been lying – he had thought of several good ideas while in Hell. He’d had to improvise a few things, but between his time in Hell and his hunting days, he had a pretty good idea what demons found painful. As it turned out, he’d been right.

He’d done better than he’d thought he would, if he was honest. He hadn’t thought he would get this far. He could tell Alastair would break soon, assuming the secret he was keeping wasn’t of great magnitude. And Dean doubted that the name of another demon would be worth much more of Alastair’s time.

Dean knew, however, that Alastair still had a few cards up his sleeve. Dean could think of one in particular that he knew Alastair would play before he finally broke. 

“Let’s talk about your little girlfriend,” Alastair said finally.

And there it was. Dean braced himself. His personal torture, his weakness, and the comparison to his father had all been covered all the way back in Hell. This was new territory – Alastair had saved the best for last, like Dean had known he would.

“Word on the street says, she’s into you,” Alastair continued. “But you’re too… honorable.”

Dean remained impassive. “She doesn’t know yet, does she?” Alastair asked. “She doesn’t know just how much your soul is actually tarnished, and why you_ really_ like her _so _much.”

She did now, Dean thought. _Thanks to you_.

“Being… _honorable_ is such a shame,” Alastair said, ”When you’re _so_ into her.” Alastair thought for a second. “I’d like to be _into_ her,” he continued. Dean had been waiting for that one, but it didn’t make him any less angry to finally hear it. “She got the better of me though, when I didn’t expect it. Knifed her own client all to hell. I’ll admit it, I underestimated her.”

Dean was happy to hear it, but he knew Alastair wouldn’t end there: the taunting would continue. “I’ve never met anyone with quite so much…” but he stopped to groan, as Dean had sent another bout of holy water through his veins.

It was five minutes before he picked up that train of thought again. “Look, Dean, your girl is hot. The things I would do to that girl…” Dean felt his blood boil. He couldn’t show a response. Poker face. Poker face, and he’d break soon. “It’s a shame Lilith won’t give me the chance.” 

Dean looked up, surprised, and stopped the torture for the first time in minutes. “As a matter of fact, Alastair, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. What did you mean when you told Ember that Lilith is interested in her?” He smiled. “Start talking about that, and I won’t even pick up a knife until you run out of things to talk about.”

Alastair smiled. “I’ll tell you that one for free, grasshopper,” he said. “Your girl could be powerful, far more powerful than she is now – far more powerful than I am, even, if she ever succumbed to her demon side. She’s holding back… but with a little nudge, she could be the most powerful being, currently, to walk the Earth.”

Dean gave Alastair a fake apologetic look. “Too much talk, not enough information,” he said, picking up the syringe again.

“Lilith has big plans for her,” Alastair continued, not bothering to speed up his drawling voice. “_Maybe _she’ll even be Lucifer’s queen.”

“Lucifer’s queen?” Dean said incredulously, but he stalled the syringe just the same.

Alastair shrugged, as best he was able in the manacles. “Everyone needs someone to walk through life with. Maybe she’ll be his queen… maybe the commander of his army. She’s powerful enough to be either one. But I’ve got to warn you Dean, not all demons are as nice as I am… not all demons care what Lilith’s got to say…”

Dean went over to the table and grabbed a funnel and some holy water and hot coals. Alastair gave an involuntary twitch, though his face remained impassive. “All the demons know who your little girlfriend is, now, even the ones that don’t care for Lilith. That’s a bad position for your pretty little girlfriend to be in, trust me. I’d put my hands on her… _before_ someone else does.” Alastair grinned a wide, insane grin. “And maybe after, too, if she’s still around.”

Dean kept his face impassive, with great effort. “Break time’s over then,” he said, and poured the coals down Alastair’s throat.”

***Ember POV***

March 21, Early morning

Ten minutes later, Sam joined Ember outside of the motel. He stopped when he saw her, and Ember could see him struggle for control for a quick second. 

“You good?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “Let’s go.”

And off they went.

***Dean POV***

March 21, Early morning

“Something caught in my throat,” Alastair said. “I think it’s my throat!”

“Well, strap in,” said Dean, “‘Cause I’m just starting to have fun.” It was a nice sentiment, but they both knew the torture session was ending quickly. Dean wouldn’t have risked the coals down the throat if it wasn’t: too many more of those, and Alastair wouldn’t be able to talk at all, thus defeating the purpose of this exercise. Dean knew he could handle a few more doses and still be able to communicate, though, if he needed. Alastair was getting desperate. He was _so close_, and it had taken far less time than Dean had imagined.

“You know,” Alastair said, “It was supposed to be your father.”

Seriously? Alastair was going back to that topic again? They had covered that only a few hours ago – hell, they had covered that back in Hell. 

“He was supposed to bring it on. But in the end, it was you,” Alastair continued.

Dean was only halfway listening as he poured salt on the demon knife. “Bring what on?”

“Every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father. And finally, you said, ‘sign me up.’ The first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch… that was the first seal.”

And Dean lost it. All the control he had worked for, so hard, for the past several hours… gone, in a second. He was scattered on the inside, his heart pumping out of control, his grip on the knife tightening. He tried his best to maintain, however, forcing his face into a smirk. “You’re lying,” he said.

Alastair was not fooled. “And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell.” And as he spoke, Alastair seemed to grow taller, even on the rack, even now in this withered, dying body that was so much less fitting than the demon Dean knew from Hell. “As he breaks, so shall it break.”

Dean had lost control completely, and turned away before Alastair could see, though he knew it wouldn’t help. “We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominos to fall right. Topple the one at the front of the line. When we win… when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this Earth down, we’ll owe it all to you… Dean Winchester. Believe me son… I wouldn’t lie about this. It’s kind of a… religious sort of thing for me.”

All shreds of control were completely gone. Gone was the thought of the dying angels, of Sam, of Ember, and of his father. There was only the demon knife, and Alastair, and death. “No. I don’t think you are lying,” Dean admitted. He took another look at his knife, knowing he was failing the angels, and simply not giving a damn. “But even if the demons do win… you won’t be there to see it.”

But when he turned around, Alastair was standing right behind him. “You should talk to your plumber about the pipes,” he said, and before Dean could think, before he could even react, he knew no more.

***Castiel POV***

March 21, Late Night

What had gone wrong? Castiel had done everything perfectly. He had made a thousand devil’s traps before. It wasn’t possible that he could have made this one wrong. There was no reason that Alastair should have escaped, no reason that Dean should have almost died. And yet here he was, in a hospital bed, in a coma, and Castiel couldn’t even heal him. Castiel had failed. If Sam hadn’t gotten there in time…

Sam and Ember confronted Castiel in the hallway of the hospital. He knew they were angry with him. He thought about flying away, but he supposed he owed Sam, at least, an explanation.

“Get in there and heal him,” Sam demanded. “Miracle. Now!”

“I can’t,” Castiel said resolutely.

“You and Uriel put him in there because you can’t keep a simple devil’s trap together!”

“No. I don’t know what happened. That trap… it shouldn’t have broken. I am sorry.” He knew his words were useless. 

“This whole thing was pointless,” Sam said, towering over him. “Do you understand that? The demons aren’t doing the hits. Something else is killing your soldiers.”

“Perhaps Alastair was lying,” Castiel said. As he said it, however, he knew it wasn’t the truth.

“No,” said Sam. “He wasn’t.” And Sam walked away.

Ember was next to chastise him. Ember confused Castiel. He could not understand why he felt drawn to her, and it made him uncomfortable. She also did not fit with any of the things he knew about demons, or even half-demons. Apparently, even his superiors were confused by her, so perhaps that was okay. 

She was staring at him with pure loathing, and he felt an uncomfortable amount of guilt. “I’ve always wanted so badly to go to Heaven,” she said venomously. “I’ve worked my whole life to overcome my demon side, to be _good_, to be _righteous_. But maybe I had the wrong idea about Heaven… because you disgust me.” 

There was another man walking down the hall nearby, and so Ember moved closer to Castiel so that she could whisper. Castiel could feel goosebumps travel down his spine, which surprised him for a second… seriously, what was _wrong _with this vessel?!?! Every time he was around her he always felt so sinfully _good_…

“Castiel,” she said, and he looked at her, startled. “I may be a half-demon, but I’m pretty sure I’m more _righteous_ than you today.”

And then she walked away, and Castiel stood frozen in the hospital hallway, filled with fear and doubt. 

***Ember POV***

March 30, Late Night

Dean had been in a coma for nine days, but the doctors were hopeful. 

Ember and Sam had been by his bedside for the majority of the nine days. To protect from any demons or angels that might take advantage of the fact that Dean was unconscious, Ember took turns with Sam and Bobby keeping watch over Dean’s bedside. Due to her ability to become invisible and the inconvenience of hospital visitation hours, Ember was assigned the “night watch.”

It wasn’t so bad. For the past four days, the other bed in Dean’s room had been empty, so Ember had been able to get some sleep. She had the distinct impression that this had to do with the fact that the last two occupants of the bed had sworn the room had been “haunted”, and also possibly with the fact that she and Sam kept showing up with more and more books about demons and the occult. Ember did what she could to perpetuate the rumor, since the empty bed assisted with her ability to get some sleep during the nights.

Ember now spent most of the day at the hospital as well. During the days, Ember and Sam continued to research Lilith and the apocalypse, though they were running out of books that they hadn’t already read. Sometimes Sam would tell Ember stories about Dean and his adventures, and Ember enjoyed these moments the most.

On the ninth day after the incident with the angels, Ember was just drifting off to sleep in the bed next to Dean’s when Castiel entered the room.   
“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up,” she told the angel. She knew he had seen her, so she hadn’t bothered to become visible.

“We’ve heard a rumor that the demons know where Dean is,” said Castiel. “I came to watch over him while he is vulnerable, but it seems you already have that covered.”

“Yeah, thanks but no thanks,” snapped Ember.

They were silent for a long time, nearly two hours. Eventually, despite Castiel, Ember felt herself fighting sleep. She was just drifting off to sleep again when she heard Castiel say in his deep voice, “Are you alright?”

With a start, she realized that Dean was awake. Both of his eyes were open, and he was staring at Castiel. “No thanks to you,” he said hoarsely.

“You need to be more careful,” said Castiel.

“You need to learn to manage a damn devil’s trap,” said Dean.

“That’s not what I mean,” said Castiel. Then he added, “Uriel is dead.”

“Was it the demons?” asked Dean.

“It was disobedience,” Castiel said. “He was working against us.” It occurred to Ember suddenly that she was invisible. She considered briefly showing herself, but then she realized that Dean and Castiel were having a conversation that perhaps they wouldn’t have if she interrupted it. Apparently Castiel was willing to talk to Dean, and she wanted the information he was giving.

“Is it true?” Dean asked suddenly. “Did I break the first seal?”

Ember’s heart plummeted, and Castiel’s eyes darted her way for just a second, then back to Dean. “Did I start all this?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” said Castiel, and Ember felt as though her heart had dropped through the floor. Castiel continued. “When we discovered Lilith’s plan for you, we laid siege to Hell. And we fought our way to get to you before you…”

“Jump-started the apocalypse,” Dean finished.

Ember’s mind was whirling. _It can’t be true._

“But we were too late,” Castiel said.

“Why didn’t you just leave me there then?” Dean asked miserably.

“It’s not… blame that falls on you, Dean. It’s fate. And the righteous man who begins it… is the only one who can finish it.” Ember felt as though she was going to throw up as Castiel said, “_You _have to stop it.”

“Lucifer?” asked Dean with horror. “The apocalypse?” Ember felt guilty for watching this exchange, but it was too late now. “What does that mean?”

Castiel squirmed uncomfortably. “Hey!” Dean yelled at him. “Don’t you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch! _What does that mean_?”

“I don’t know,” said Castiel.

“Bull!” Dean yelled.

“I don’t,” whispered Castiel. “Dean, they don’t tell me much. I know… how our fate rests with you.”

“Well then you guys are screwed,” Dean said, not looking at Castiel. “I can’t do it, Cas. It’s too big. Alastair was right. I’m not all here. I’m not – I’m not strong enough. I guess I’m not the man either of our dads wanted me to be.”

Ember felt her heart go out to Dean. “Find someone else,” he continued. “It’s not me.”

Castiel looked at him sadly, but said nothing. Soon after, Ember heard Dean’s breathing again, and knew he had fallen asleep once more.

***Ember POV***

March 31, Early morning

Ember was reading a passage of The Apocalypse: A Trajectory when she heard Dean’s voice once more: “Hello? Is anyone there?”

She felt her hair, making sure that it wasn’t sticking up in odd places, and showed herself.

“Ember,” he said hoarsely.

“Hey Dean,” she said, coming near his bed. “You look like shit.”

He gave a wan smile. “And you’re beautiful,” he said. He thought for a second. “Where is everyone else?”

Ember gestured toward the rooms’ only window. “It’s night, Dean. Visitation hours are over, and I can become invisible.” She shrugged. “I’m on guard duty.”

He thought for a second, turning his gaze on her. Slowly, he said, “Did Castiel visit earlier?”

Ember thought she must have looked guilty. “Yeah,” she said. To distract herself from how uncomfortable she felt about what she’d overheard earlier, she decided to make a joke. “He was here. We’re not very happy with him, but we’ve decided not to kill him for the time being… as if we even could.”

Dean searched her face. “Did you hear… how much did you hear?”

She was busted, and she knew it. She should’ve known: even coming out of a coma, Dean was sharp and alert. She sighed. “I heard enough.” A range of emotions flashed on Dean’s face: anger, hurt, guilt, pain. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s just… sometimes I forget I’m invisible. And by the time I remembered, and realized what you were talking about… I didn’t mean to overhear.”

Dean’s face eventually settled on a mixture of resolve and guilt. “Why are you still here?” he asked.

The question threw her off guard, but she quickly realized what he meant. “Dean, where am I going to go?” she asked him, moving closer. “I’m in this too,” she told him. “The demons obviously have something big planned for me, and the angels are, if anything, even scarier.” She smiled. “And I, for one, am going to throw my chips in with the most _righteous _man on _either _side.” She took his hand. He flinched at her touch, but did not draw away. If anything, he held on tighter. “Plus, it works out,” she added. “As I happen to be _rather fond_ of him.”

Dean stared at her, and she could tell he was trying to recover his tough exterior. “You could go somewhere,” he said, hoarsely, “somewhere far away, for awhile. Like… I don’t know, Bora Bora. Somewhere nobody expects.”

Ember raised her eyebrows, but otherwise ignored him. “Do you want a nurse?” she asked. “They ought to check on you now that you’ve woken up. Dean, you’ve been in a coma for nine days.”

“Damn it!” he said. It sounded like he meant it to sound loud and mean, but it came out hoarse and was accompanied by a wince of pain. 

Ember only had a few seconds’ warning before a nurse came in. “Oh my goodness, you’re awake!” she exclaimed. “Hold on, I’ll grab the on-call doctor.”

It was nearly twenty minutes before Ember was alone with Dean in the room again, at which point she once more became visible. “I have a theory,” she said, before he could begin talking, “about the apocalypse.”

He looked at her, and she could tell he was curious; her attempt to distract him from his guilt had worked. “I’ve done some research about the whole ‘righteous man sheds blood in Hell’ thing,” she said. Dean winced, but otherwise said nothing.

“It’s pretty obscure,” Ember continued, “but now that I know what to look for, it’s not unheard of. There are a few people that have some theories.” Ember paused. “In order to fit the criteria, first off, sources agree that whoever starts the apocaylpse had to be someone who had gone to Hell to prevent or protect someone else’s death. Like you, or your father, or that lawyer you told me about that made a deal with the crossroads demon to save his wife from cancer.”

“Okay,” Dean said, paying rapt attention.

“But to be considered _righteous_...” Ember shook her head. “There’s one source that suggests that a _righteous _man must be one that has spent his life helping others, getting very little in return. So… someone like a nun… only they would never make a deal with a demon.”

“So?” Dean asked, barely looking at Ember.

“Don’t you get it?” she said vehemently, and he looked at her in surprise. “How many people fit both of those criteria? How long do you think the demons have waited for someone like you or your father, or even Sam, to come downstairs?”

Dean looked surprised, but hopeful, and Ember continued. “Dean, they _planned_ this. Azazel _planned_ this, when he brought your father to Hell. Lilith _planned_ this. This has been in the works for _thousands_ of years. I mean, come on, even the _angel_ told you it wasn’t your fault!”

Dean looked like he was thinking hard, as though he wanted to believe it. “I mean, hell, Dean, do you want proof? They didn’t have just _any_ demon working on you and your father – they gave you _Alastair_, torture extraordinaire.” Dean winced again at the name, and Ember continued. “It didn’t matter whether it was 30 years, or 100 years, or a thousand years. It _had _to be you or your father, and they would’ve taken however long it-…”

“Alastair,” Dean said suddenly, his voice harsher than usual. “What happened? How did I get away? Do you know?”

Ember stared at him defiantly. Dean didn’t have to know the whole story. She and Sam had rushed in to find Dean unconscious and Alastair about to kill Castiel. Sam had used his demon powers to kill the demon…

But it didn’t matter. Knowing what she now knew about Dean, and about Alastair, the demon couldn’t be left alive.

“Sam, Cas, and I killed him,” she said, daring him to challenge her.

“How?”

“A group effort, using all of our powers.”

Again, Dean appeared to struggle through a range of emotions: surprise, fear, and exhaustion being the primary ones. Finally, he settled on relief. He looked up at Ember slowly, and gave her a wan smile. “Ember, I don’t know why the hell you’re still around. But you should be my girl, or… or whatever I can get. Because I sure as hell am gonna need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So pacing of the story, as you may have noticed, goes back and forth between slow and fast. The reason is that obviously Ember follows the story line fairly close to canon, with a few things AU, and I don't want to simply "repeat" scenes from Supernatural if Ember doesn't change them significantly. (I did "repeat" a few things, just because they were funny or I wanted to put a certain spin on them, however.) I also don't want to just assume that the reader has categorically memorized every single thing that happened in 12 seasons of Supernatural, either, so I have to summarize a bit of the plotline, even if Ember doesn't change it, for those of you that don't live and breathe Supernatural. So anyway, sorry about the pacing.
> 
> This scene with Alastair was such a fantastic scene with such good acting by Jensen and Chris Heyerdahl that I just had to slow the pace down a little for this one. Let me know if you think I've got it right, because there are several key moments in this chapter and the next.
> 
> Also, Pamela was just too frickin easy to save. Saving her saves me the trouble of having to find other psychics and doctors to perform astral projection later, too, so that decision was pretty easy to make.
> 
> And finally, I decided to put Dean in a coma, mainly for a timing issue that arose between the next few chapters (and me and my OCD) if he wasn't in the hospital for at least a week. Plus these guys get the snot beat out of them in every episode and never seem to actually have any injuries. (Except for when Osric Chau dislocated Jared's shoulder in the greenroom and they wrote it into the script, of course. Seriously, if you don't watch these guys at conventions on Youtube, you should. Unless you're under 17, in which case shame on you for watching those and shame on you for reading this story).


	7. The Monster at the End of This Book

***Dean POV***

March 31, Late afternoon

Recovery, Day 2:

Dean woke up to the undeniable smell of “hospital.” 

His first thought was, “_God damn it. The apocalypse_.”

His second thought was, “_Ember. At least that’s gone right.”_

“Dean, you’re awake!” said Ember. She was here! “How do you feel?”

“Never better!” he said. He continued to be surprised at how hoarse he sounded. At least they’d taken off the breathing tubes, he discovered.

“You’re on a lot of pain pills,” she said. 

“That’s probably a good thing.”

Dean suddenly realized he was horribly thirsty. He saw some water on the table, and moved toward it. When he did so, he immediately felt dizzy, as if he had spun around several times and gone flying. It was also very painful, and he let out an involuntary grunt.

Ember rolled her eyes, and picked up the water, holding it up to him. Dean braced himself, then forced his hand up to hold the water himself.

“I wish Cas would’ve healed you,” Ember said regretfully.

“I wouldn’t let him do shit for me, especially mess with my insides.”

Sam walked in then, a large batch of books in his arms. “Dean!” he said, dropping the books on the table in front of Ember. “Finally! I’ve been here all morning, but you’ve been asleep!”

“What did you get?” Dean asked him, looking at the books in his hand.

“A bunch of stuff I put on the waiting list at the local library,” said Sam. “I put some more on reserve, too.”

“Thanks,” Ember said. She looked carefully at the pile of books. “I’ve read that one,” she said, pointing at one of the books Sam laid on the table. “And that one. And that one won’t help us, I’ve pored through it and it’s all fiction, and terribly written. But that one might help us. They don’t have a copy of that one yet at the Sioux Falls library. It’s still on the waiting list.”

Dean reached out toward them to gesture for them to pass him a book, but grunted in pain and dizziness again, causing them both to look back at him.

“Dude. You’ve gotta stay still,” Sam said. “You know you just woke up from a coma, right?”

“I think you’re due for another dose of pain pills,” Ember said. “I’ll call the nurse.”

“What the hell did Alastair do to me?” Dean asked.

“Well, you weren’t kidding about him,” Ember said, turning to face Dean and shooting him a sad look. She pressed the “Nurse Call” button on the bedside remote. “The guy’s a master craftsman. Knows exactly where to punch.”

“Your skull is fractured in six places,” Sam said.

“What the hell? He only hit me twice!”

“He’s a demon,” Ember pointed out, “and a fairly strong one at that.”  
“This is ridiculous,” Dean said. “Give me a book, I’ll look through one of those.”

Ember and Sam both sent him looks of pity, but Sam obediently picked up a book off the table. Dean reached out to grab it, immediately feeling the dizziness once again. This time, he held back the involuntary gasp. When he looked at the words on the page, however, the dizziness came back in full force. Shortly after that, he could see, out of the corner of his eye, a nurse adjusting his IV again. Then he knew no more.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The next time Dean awoke, it was dark outside. He saw no one, but he could feel that Ember’s hand was in his. Suddenly, she became visible again.

“Hey beautiful,” he said.

“Dean!” she whispered. 

He turned his head, and felt the dizziness again. “Stop trying to move,” Ember whispered.

“I just wanted to see your face,” he told her.

She smiled. “I have to admit, Dean, I’m not sure whether I’m enjoying this side of you, or if it makes me uncomfortable.”

“Meaning?”

“I guess I got used to you trying to get me into bed.”

“I haven’t tried to get you into bed in three months,” he pouted softly. It was the first time since the incident with the siren (back in February) that either of them had spoken about the incident with Anna (in November) and the dissolution of what they’d had before that. Still, the whole episode seemed so far away by now that neither of them cared.

“I suppose that’s true,” Ember said. “But I don’t doubt you’ll be doing it a lot more after the conversation you had with me yesterday.”

Dean smiled knowingly. “You mean now that we’re a thing?”

“I wasn’t sure if you actually remembered having that conversation,” Ember admitted.

“I do,” Dean said with a hint of his old grin. “And yes, I suppose I will be trying to get you into bed a lot more often.” Dean thought a moment, and the beginnings of a new feeling came over him. The pain had subsided for the moment and the dizziness had gone away now that he’d picked a position. “Come to think about it, when is that going to happen?”

“Let’s start with you being able to move around without falling over, and we’ll go from there,” Ember said, her eyes dancing.

Dean grinned again, at least as much as he could muster. “Challenge accepted!” he said.

“Dean, that wasn’t a-…”

But Dean didn’t get far.

***Dean POV***

April 1, Evening

Recovery, Day 3

By the end of his third day in the hospital, Dean had regained the ability to move around without getting dizzy, as long as he didn’t move too fast. Reading or watching TV was still difficult, however, for long periods of time, as he would once again become dizzy. He knew that if he admitted this, Ember would offer to read to him, and Sam would make fun of him and then offer to read to him, so he chose not to admit it. As a result, he was spending a lot of time pretending to read or watch television. Therefore, he was spending a lot of time bored.

“When the hell are they going to release me?” he said irritably to Sam when he came to visit.

“In a couple of days,” Sam said for the third time that day. “When they get the final scans back and they can make sure there’s no internal bleeding.”

“They can’t have figured that out after three days?”

“Dean, if Alastair had punched your skull in a millimeter more it would’ve stabbed completely into your brain, and the only reason you’d ever see me again is to treat your therapy needs,” Ember said.

Dean had no answer for that. Instead, he began to formulate a plan.

***Dean POV***

April 2, Morning

Recovery, Day 4

On the morning of the fourth day in the hospital, Dean was awakened by voices. 

“I’m not surprised,” Sam was saying.

“Idgit,” said Bobby.

“They really should’ve let him go home,” Ember said. “He’s clearly recovered his danger addiction and his faculties, if not his common sense. I couldn’t talk him out of it. Believe me, I tried. But, the nurses got him, in the end.”

Dean looked down and, sure enough, he was strapped to the bed with leather straps.

Bits and pieces of last night began to come back to him, as well as a dull ache in his side from where he’d fallen the previous night. He gave a slow grin. “I _may _have tried to leave last night.”

“And how did that work for you, ya idgit?” asked Bobby.

“Still here, aren’t I?” he snapped.

***Dean POV***

April 3, Morning

Recovery, Day 5

“Mr. Kavorki, if you try to leave, we won’t stop you at this point,” the doctor was saying to Dean.

“You tried to stop me the night before last,” Dean shot back as he slowly moved around the hospital room, gathering his belongings.

“That was because you couldn’t walk straight,” the doctor replied. “You made it down to the ER, and the night shift thought you were either drunk or psychotic.” 

Dean ignored Ember and Sam, who were both sniggering. “But you’re saying there’s still a chance of internal bleeding?”

“We’d like to keep you a couple more days for observation,” the doctor admitted. “You’re out of what we consider to be the ‘danger zone’, but stranger things have happened. You were roughed up pretty bad, there, young man. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

“I appreciate everything you have done,” Dean said, “but I’m going home. If I have to spend one more day in this damn hospital room, I’ll bore myself back into a coma.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Aside from the issue of the apocalypse, Dean felt 100% better. He had showered, shaved, and put on clean clothes. Afterward, he made a beeline to Ember’s room.

Life was too short. He had been to Hell, he had been to the hospital, the Apocalypse was imminent, and he was tired of waiting. He was tired of the guilt, too. Ember’s words about being a righteous man had made him feel better, and a sense of determination had overcome him. He would stop the apocalypse. And he would do it with Ember, _for _Ember.

As soon as Ember answered the door, he kissed her. She was warm in his arms, and smelled like shampoo. Her lips were soft, and tasted like candy. She responded readily, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth slowly, cupping her head while leaning her against the wall to support both of them.

Dean wasn’t sure how long they stood there, just kissing, before he finally stepped back. He did know it had been the best kiss of his life. Victory, at last. Her hair was frayed, and her lips were pouty and looking thoroughly kissed. “I’m taking you out to dinner,” he proclaimed.

In slow motion, her face fell. “Maybe tomorrow, but tonight the guys were hoping we could all go out to dinner. They want to celebrate.”

Dean groaned. “Fine. But somebody better spring for steak. And pie! I miss pie.”

The dinner they had that night was one that Dean would remember for the rest of his life. He ate a very expensive steak, and he and Ember kept shooting each other “looks” when nobody else was looking. Afterward, the four of them talked late into the night about the coming apocalypse. Dean had been eager to leave the hospital so that he could have more alone time with Ember (in addition to all of the obvious reasons one hates the hospital). He quickly realized, however, that the others had all been eager for him to leave the hospital in order to discuss the latest episode of the unfolding apocalypse in a safe environment (without nurses that might possibly have been demons, and with a decent internet connection, for example).

“Dude.” Dean said to Sam when Ember went to throw some laundry into the washing machine and Bobby went to go grab a six pack. “Can’t you make some excuse and go to bed so Bobby will follow? You’re supposed to be my brother!”

Sam shrugged. “Look, if you’re that…” he grinned, “sexually frustrated, just use the Impala or one of the junk cars.”

Dean glared at him, because they both knew the truth. You didn’t have sex for the first time with a girl like Ember in a junk car. While the Impala might have been a decent option, he would never make the suggestion because he knew that both of them would associate it with their fight about Anna. Sex had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now it had cost him dearly.

At this point, alone time would be happening in the house, or not at all.

Dean finally got his chance after midnight. They had come to a lull in the conversation, and Sam and Bobby both finally decided to go to bed.

“Yeah, I’m going too,” Ember said. “I’ll come up in a second. Let me grab my things out of the dryer.”

Dean waited until Sam and Bobby had gone upstairs before making a beeline for the wash room and putting his arms around Ember from behind, kissing her neck. Ember responded in kind, giggling and circling around in his arms. Though it cost him dearly and made him swoon a little, he picked her up and placed her on the top of the dryer, then flattened himself against it, her legs around him on either side.

Then they were kissing fiercely, and Dean wasn’t sure where his mouth ended and Ember’s began. He paused when Ember pulled his shirt off, and her hands felt like fire on the flat planes of his chest. He knew she could feel his hardness, and she squirmed against it, making him groan into her mouth. Slowly, he began to pull her shirt up, teasing the sensitive skin on her side, just above her jeans. Meanwhile he sucked at her neck, then kissed down her front to where her breasts were partially visible in her V-neck top. 

Just when he was thinking about taking things farther, however, he heard footsteps walk by and realized that Bobby was in the kitchen. Before he had time to react, Bobby came through the door, causing him and Ember to immediately jump away from each other. Ember stood fixing her top, her face red, and Dean offered Bobby a big grin, combined with a shrug. Bobby had his shotgun with him, and Dean knew he must have heard a noise and come after them, thinking they might have been a demon. 

“Balls!” Bobby screamed. Then, as if each word cost him a bit of his dignity, Bobby added, “If you want to do that, go get a hotel, or do it in the Impala! Next time I catch you in my house with a shitty grin on your face, Dean Winchester, I’ll give you another skull fracture!”

***Dean POV***

April 4, Morning

Recovery Day 6

When Dean came downstairs the next morning, he was surprised to see Sam already wide awake, and the table laid out with pancakes, crepes, eggs, and sausages. Bobby and Ember were nowhere to be found, and Dean knew immediately that this wasn’t good. The fact that the food was from a local restaurant meant that Sam had supplied it. The fact that Sam had supplied him with a spread of food meant that something was wrong.

“What happened?” Dean asked, suddenly wide awake.

“Ember and Bobby had to go take care of a situation,” Sam said. “They’ll be back in a few days.” 

“What kind of a situation?” was Dean’s first question.

Sam sighed. “Some low-level demons kidnapped some of Ember’s friends to try to get to her,” he answered. 

“Her mother?” Dean asked in alarm.

Sam laughed. “Nah, her mother’s too good. And her friend Mike shot one of them in the leg when they tried to take him this morning, and salted his door after that. He called Ember at 4AM this morning, and she and Bobby went south.”

Dean knew he’d liked Mike. He was still worried about Ember, however. “So what was the situation, then?” He was in the process of getting his coat and scooping up some of the eggs.

“Well, Ember called me again a couple of hours after she was on the road. Another couple of friends had called… two female friends. The demons got to them instead.”

“Shit!” Dean swore, scarfing down more eggs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sam snapped, standing in front of the door and crossing his arms.

“To Indiana,” Dean said frankly.

“No, you’re not,” Sam said. “Why do you think I stayed behind?”

“If you honestly think I’m going to stay here while-…” Dean began.

“Ember doesn’t _want_ you to go,” Sam said. “Check the note on the table.”

So Dean did.

_Hi Dean, _

_ I’m sorry I had to bail on you like this, but it was either this or tie you to the bed like they did at the hospital._

_ From what we’ve been able to ascertain from Ruby, these guys are pretty dumb. They might have heard about me from other demons, or they might be making a play against Lucifer or Lilith… there doesn’t seem to be any apocalypse-related movement, however. I promise, if there’s anything suggesting otherwise, both you and Sam can come help._

_ Please, please, PLEASE, Dean, otherwise, stay HOME. Bobby and I can take care of ourselves. You need to be resting. As it is, you’d be a liability, for both of us. If the positions were reversed, you’d say the same, and you’d be right. _

_ If you do this for me, as soon as I get back, you can have me – any time, in any position._

“Son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed, and threw the note down on the table, stomping back to his room.

***Dean POV***

April 11, Morning

(One Week Later)

“Dean, if you speed any faster, you’re going to wreck the damn car!” snapped Sam. It was one week later, and Ember and Bobby had finally finished clearing out the small sect of demons (all 12 of them) who had hoped to oppose Lilith and Lucifer. The entire thing had been done with 0 casualties, and only 3 injuries, mostly with the help of Ember’s invisibility. Bobby had been stabbed in the forearm, but even that would heal in a week or two. And, Dean had been good, and stayed out of the way while he recovered. Sam had called him “surly” and “an alcoholic” and threatened to tell Ember how much whiskey he was drinking, but aside from that it had been horribly boring and uneventful. As of yesterday, however, he could officially complete an entire 30-minute workout and sparring session without any signs of dizziness.

Ember was supposed to have arrived back at Bobby’s that day, but instead Sam had caught wind of a case in Bloomington, Indiana. Threfore, only Bobby headed back, after Sam and Dean met up with Ember in the Midwest.

“I’m _not_ going to wreck Baby,” Dean protested. “I’m just in a good mood.”

Sam laughed, and the two went silent for awhile.

Finally, Dean broke the silence. “Look, this evening, can you throw me a bone here and take about 3 hours and go… like, anywhere?”

Sam snorted with laughter. “Three hours? Seriously?”

Dean gave him a derisive look, and he stopped short. “Oh… oh my God! I forgot! You haven’t ‘done it’ yet, have you?” He snickered. “Holy shit, dude!” After he stopped laughing, however, he said, “Fine, man. But you owe me.”

***Ember POV***

April 11, Afternoon

Of all of the cases they’d ever done, this one might be the weirdest. Dean and Sam were investigating a possible case when they stumbled upon, miraculously, a series of books detailing their lives over the past three years. The book series, called “Supernatural” and written by Carver Edlund, began when Dean had pulled Sam out of college, and ended with Dean going to Hell. The brothers bought all of the books they could get their hands on, and headed back to the hotel for some research.

As Ember hadn’t entered into Dean’s life until _after_ he returned from Hell, she found the entire thing hysterical. Dean’s discovery that fans of the books had written fanfiction depicting the brothers in a relationship was particulary funny to her, causing her to laugh for several minutes as both brothers glared at her.

Eventually, Ember and the brothers managed to track down the supposed “author”, whose real name was Chuck Shurley. He didn’t believe them at first – he was completely under the impression that they were fictional characters, and that he had been writing about them all this time. Apparently, he’d written more, too, though it had never been published. He knew about the angels, about the 66 seals, and even about Ember. At that point, Ember (who had begun the visit invisible) showed herself, and Chuck was forced to believe that the three of them were telling the truth.

“There’s only one explanation,” Chuck said. “Obviously I’m a god.”

Ember choked back laughter, and Sam said, “You’re not a god.”

“How else do you explain it? I write things and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I’m definitely a god. A cruel, capricious god!”

Chuck wasn’t a god, of course; he was a prophet, according to Castiel. “A mouthpiece,” Castiel explained. “A conduit, for the inspired word.”

More importantly, according to Chuck, Sam would be confronted by Lilith that very night, and end up “in the throes of fiery demonic passion.” Castiel said there was no way around this: “As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass.” Dean was determined, however, to somehow circumvent the prophecy.

“Dean, maybe Castiel is right,” said Ember. “But there’s still hope. We don’t know what happens _after_ the demonic passion or whatever. Maybe we still can defeat her!”

“How?” Dean said, giving Ember an annoyed look. “Your powers aren’t strong enough. I don’t have any powers. And Sam…”

But therein lie the problem. For the entire afternoon, ever since Chuck’s prophecy about Lilith, Ember had been at war with herself over whether to tell Dean about Sam drinking the demon blood. She wanted with all of her being to tell Dean what was going on, but she also desperately did not want to be the one to drive this wedge between the brothers. Finally, Ember swore to herself that the next time she got the chance to talk to Sam alone, she would give him an ultimatum: tell Dean, or Ember would tell him herself.

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Dean said, determined to leave town at any cost.”

But Sam had other plans. He wanted to face Lilith. He hadn’t forgiven her, Ember knew, for his time alone while Dean was in Hell. He was angry, and he was going to get himself killed… or worse.

“Lilith is going to slaughter you,” Dean said, angrily grabbing bags from around their hotel room.

“Maybe she will. Maybe she won’t,” Sam said, while Ember glared at him.

“So what, you think you can take her?” Dean challenged.

“Only one way to find out, Dean, and I say bring her on.” Ember and Dean both opened their mouths to speak, but Sam said, “You think I’ll do it, don’t you? You think I’ll go dark side.”

“Yes!” said both Dean and Ember at the same time. 

“You too?” Sam snapped at her.

“Don’t drag me into this,” Ember snapped. “I’ve tried really hard to stay away from this one.”

“See, well, if she thinks you’ll go dark side, that’s even worse, because I’m pretty sure she’s figured out whatever the hell you’re keeping from me,” Dean snapped at Sam. “But even the things I know scare the hell out of me, man. Like the way you’ve been acting lately, and the things you’ve been doing. The two of you ripped Alastair apart like you were swatting a fly.” Ember and Sam looked at Dean, stunned.

“Cas told me,” he said. “But even if he hadn’t, I already know that Ember wasn’t able to overpower Alastair completely. Come on, we figured that out when Alastair dropped by her house, so that had to be you, Sam.”

Ember shrank into the corner, and Sam had the nerve to look ashamed. “What else did he tell you?” Sam asked.

“Nothing I don’t already know,” Dean said. “That you’ve been using your psychic crap, and you’ve been getting stronger. We just don’t know why, and we don’t know how. And worst of all, I see the way you look at Ember when you think I’m not looking, right after you come back from those meetings with Ruby that you won’t admit that you have.”

“It’s not what you think,” Sam said.

Ember couldn’t hold in her anger anymore. “It’s not?” she challenged him, looking up to his tall frame. “Really, it’s not?”

“You use your powers!” Sam shot back at her, “and you’re getting stronger, too! What’s the difference?”

“Ohhhh, there’s a big difference!” Ember shouted at him, “And we both know that!”

But Sam refused to speak about the subject any longer.

“What’s going on, Sam?” Dean yelled at his brother. “Because I’m at a total loss!” 

But Sam would not leave, and ultimately Dean threw his bags back on the chair, clearly resigning himself to stay with his brother. He then angrily left the motel and wandered into the night, with Ember hurrying after him.

***Dean POV***

April 11, Evening

Dean was angry, and hurt, and worried. Ember caught up to him at a vending machine.

“You should leave,” was the first thing Dean said.

“And go where?” Ember asked again. “Clearly you guys don’t realize this, but you act as a protection shield. I’ve met up with less demons since I started living with Bobby and spending time with you guys than I have in months before that. All the demons know who the Winchesters are, and apparently getting to me is not worth tangling with you.”

“But Lilith-…”

“Is coming for me, and it doesn’t matter how far away I go,” Ember told him gently.

Dean sighed. “I never should’ve gotten you into this.”

“That was my choice.”

Dean set his Coke on the top of the vending machine, and put his arms around Ember, crushing her to him. She smelled like she always smelled, like shampoo and longing, and even in this situation he felt a strong pang of desire. He wanted to get lost in her arms and never let go. 

Instead, he pulled away from her and looked into her eyes. “Ember, what’s going on with Sam?” he asked her pleadingly. “How is he getting so much stronger?”

“Dean, I’m sorry,” Ember said, looking away. “It has to be him who tells you.”

“That’s not fair,” Dean said, dropping his arms from her shoulders. “Lilith is coming tonight.” He knew that she had been keeping this a secret from him for some time, and he understood that it was because it was Sam’s secret, not hers. But if she could have saved him… he knew he could never forgive her.

“Dean, there’s nothing you don’t know that would change tonight’s outcome,” Ember promised. “Sam may be strong enough to fight Lilith, if he doesn’t go dark side.” 

This didn’t help Dean’s mood, and he gave a snarl of fury. Ember began to speak again. “Dean, I’ve been bugging Sam to tell you for months, begging him to tell you. I never would’ve kept it a secret if I thought you hadn’t already figured most of it out on your own, anyway.”

Dean frowned. There was an unspoken truth bouncing between the two of them: Sam is becoming a demon. “But how is he doing it?” Dean asked insistently. “And _why?”_

Ember laughed derisively. “The _why _is because he thinks you need his help,” she confessed. “He’s taken this burden upon himself, Dean. And maybe he’s right, because at this point Lilith is all three of our burden. But as for the how… Dean, he has to tell you that himself. But I promise, knowing the answer to that won’t make a damn bit of difference tonight.” 

Dean still looked pissed. Ember sighed. She didn’t want Dean to be mad, and truthfully this had gone too far. “Dean, I _agree _with you. You need to know, and there’s seriously no reason he hasn’t told you, other than that he’s ashamed. But this has gone far enough. I’ll go in and talk to him in a couple of minutes, once he’s cooled down. I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t tell you what’s going on, then I’ll tell you, because this has gotten out of hand. Okay?”

Dean hugged her, sighing, and holding her close. “Okay.”

Ember searched around for something to do. She wasn’t ready to talk to Sam again yet – she was too angry at him, and this was too important. “Give me a couple of minutes to cool down, okay?” she asked him. “Let’s… maybe we should pray to Castiel.”

***Dean POV***

April 11, Night

As it turned out, praying to Castiel for help had been a very good idea. According to Castiel, Chuck was tied to an archangel, meaning that if Dean brought Chuck to Lilith’s confrontation with Sam, the archangel would see Lilith as a threat and chase Lilith away.

Chuck wasn’t willing to attend the confrontation and take the chance on whether or not the archangel would show up, but Dean also didn’t give him much of a choice. 

Dean, Chuck, and Ember were almost too late; as Dean drove up, he could already see Sam struggling with a female form on his bed. To his credit, Chuck ran in the door, screaming, “I am the prophet Chuck!”

“You’ve _got _to be _joking!” _screamed Lilith.

And then the walls started shaking. “Oh, this is no joke!” said Dean over the roaring of the walls. “See, Chuck here’s got an archangel on his shoulder. You’ve got about ten seconds before this room is full of wrath and you’re a piece of charcoal. You sure you want to tangle with that?”

And with a final gust of fury, a cloud of black smoke erupted out of the woman’s mouth and flew out the window. Immediately, the shaking stopped. Dean let out a sigh of relief. _It’s over._

Sam, who was on the bed, was the first to kneel over the blond girl whose body Lilith had inhabited. “She’s still breathing,” Sam said. “She needs to get to a hospital.”

Dean realized suddenly that there was a hand in his, and looked down and met Ember’s eye. Suddenly, an idea clunked into place in his mind. As swiftly as the demon Lilith had left in a cloud of smoke, a new plan was emerging in Dean’s mind. _The danger is over. On to other things._

“Okay,” he said. “Sam, why don’t you take her in the Impala? You can take Chuck home, too.” Dean gave Sam a wide grin. Sam had known what had been on Dean’s mind for tonight before Chuck, before Lilith. Sam _owed_ him this much.

Sam gave Dean a look of disgust, then obediently kneeled to pick up the blond girl. 

Dean walked over to Chuck. “Thanks for your help today, man. I need you to do me one more solid though, okay?”

“I’m not facing anymore demons,” Chuck said immediately, still shaken.

“No, no worries,” Dean said. “I was just gonna ask if Sam could stay at your house tonight, to… protect you, from any additional demons that might come to call. That way you could protect Sam as well. You could protect each other.”

Chuck looked at Ember, then looked back at Dean. “Okay,” he said, clearly understanding what was really going on. 

Ember was looking at Dean with a half-smile, allowing his manipulation. _Good_, he thought, _Finally._

Sam caught Dean’s eye. “You’re a jerk, Dean.” 

Dean picked up Sam’s bag for him, and followed Sam, the blond dental hygienist, and Chuck out to the Impala. 

“Whatever,” Dean said to Sam. “Just…” he looked back at Ember. “Don’t call me unless there’s an emergency.” He looked at Chuck. “And don’t watch, you pervert.”

Then he walked back into the hotel room with a smile.

He and Ember collided halfway across the room. His hands were around her and her tongue was in his mouth nearly before the door had slammed shut. They stayed that way for a few seconds, with his hands tangled in her hair and behind her neck, until finally he felt her tug on his shirt, and he knew it was okay to go farther. He allowed her to tug his shirt off, and he made quick work of her blouse. She had a perfect pair of breasts, Dean thought, and he used one hand to unhook her bra. She was busy feeling the planes of his hard chest, and her hand stopped on his upper arm, where Castiel’s hand print was still visible. He saw her quirk a smile, and he remembered when he had shown it to her, the first day they had met.

Dean used her distraction to lean and suck on her neck, and her intake of breath shot right to his groin. Their mouths collided once again, and both found themselves backing up against the bed. Dean had just lowered her onto the bed, and he could finally feel her beneath him- “Hold on,” she said breathlessly.

“What?” Dean asked, jumping up resignedly, barely keeping the frustration out of his voice.

To his surprise, she jumped up into his arms again, and used her powers to force him lightly back toward the other bed. He fell backward, and she climbed on top of him. “Lilith was in that bed,” she said by way of explanation. _Oh_, he thought briefly, _That’s a good point._

This time Dean found himself lying on his own bed, with Ember on top of him, and she circled her hips, making him groan in frustration. Suddenly she became invisible, though he could still feel her. _Oh hell yes._ Dean watched as his jeans seemed to slide themselves down, freeing his erection. He could feel her, suddenly, and it was the best feeling in the world, and it had been _so_ long, and it was Ember, _finally-_

But Dean didn’t want this to be over too quickly. He made a wild grab for Ember, and she squeaked as she suddenly became visible again. Still, she allowed him to haul her upwards and switch their positions. He made short work of her pants, and saw that she had black lace panties. He might have paused to get a better look on a different day, but it was not the time to go slowly – they had the whole night for that, and they both knew it. 

Still, he wanted to leave a lasting impression. He had just begun to kiss between her thighs, however, when she whined, “Dean!” and pulled him upward, this time not using her powers. Her gesture was ineffective, but he knew what she wanted, so he kissed upward, stopping only to kiss and suck around both her nipples. She pulled him closer with her thighs, and they reached down together to line him up at her entrance.

Finally, he shoved inside her. He gave her time to get used to the feeling, but she whined again, urging him onward, and he began to thrust earnestly. This was nothing like he’d ever experienced before. It was almost as if they were made for each other, and it felt like coming home.

It was an embarrassingly short time (compared to his usual stamina) before he began to feel that this would be over soon. Still, just as he began to worry, he gave an almighty thrust, and he felt Ember’s walls close around him, and her back arched off the bed. He followed her over the edge, and collapsed next to her seconds later.

***Ember POV***

April 12, Very Early Morning

Ember never would’ve believed the hype about Dean Winchester, but perhaps there was something to it. They had had sex (with a good amount of pillow talk in between) for nearly 3 hours. As she finally fell off to sleep, it occurred to her that this situation (like most situations lately) was temporary. The apocalypse would be over at some point (for better or for worse), and she and Dean would have to figure out what they were going to do next. Perhaps someday she would be able to go back to her old life, and perhaps someday he might want something more than he had right now. For now, though, she was happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought it would be fun to write about Dean with human limitations. It makes me giggle. Leave reviews please.


	8. When the Levee Breaks and Lucifer Rises

***Sam POV***

April 12, Morning

Sam fully expected to find Dean and Ember lying naked in the bed asleep when he walked into the hotel room the next morning, but what he actually found was much worse.

Both of them were fully dressed. “Here’s the deal,” Ember said, her hands on her hips. “We’re having an intervention.”

Sam scoffed, laughed derisively, and turned the other way to leave. He not unexpectedly found that his feet wouldn’t move. He whirled his body around to face Ember once again. “Really? You’re going to use your powers on me?” He gave an enormous effort, and found the control on his body break, which sent him overbalancing onto the bed.

Ember towered over him, angrier than ever. He could see the fury in her eyes, and for the smallest moment he was both afraid of her and also wildly attracted to her. She narrowed her eyes. “You broke my control, Sam. You’re stronger than I am now. You broke your promise to me. _Again._”

Sam turned to leave the motel room once more; he needed air. “If you leave this motel room, Sam Winchester, I swear to God I’ll tell him!” Ember screeched after him.

He gave a laugh again. “Whatever demon,” he said, and slammed the door on both of them.

***Sam POV***

April 12, Afternoon

Sam opened the door of the hotel room once again, with trepidation. As he expected, he had barely gotten past the threshold when a fist collided with his face.

“Dean!” Ember screamed.

“I probably deserved that,” Sam said, coughing from the floor.

“Demon blood, Sammy! What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” said Sam. “Look, you were right, okay?”

“I… what?” Dean asked.

“You were right. Look, I did a lot of thinking, okay. I went to talk to Ruby, too. I told her… I told her I’m done.” He looked Dean in the eye. “Look, Dean, I am so… so sorry. When you went to Hell, I… I got on a bad path. I never should’ve trusted Ruby. And I see now… if I was this hesitant to tell you, it was never a good idea in the first place.”

Dean stopped in his tracks. “Sammy, I don’t want to lose you. Not to something like this. How could you do this?”

Sam attempted to look as guilty as possible, which wasn’t hard… he did feel guilty, lying to his brother like this. “Look, it’s like I said. I just… I didn’t do well when you were gone, okay? And Ruby was there, and she helped me, and she saved me, and I just thought…”

Dean narrowed his eyes, and Sam was sure for a second that Dean hadn’t bought it. Then he said, “Sammy, that’s what they do, though, man! Demons… no offense, Ember… you just can’t trust them.”

“None taken,” Ember grumbled, staring at Sam with narrowed eyes.

“Just promise me it’s over, okay?” Dean said to his brother.

“Yeah, I promise,” Sam said. “I mean, it’ll take awhile for the blood to leave my system, but… I promise, I’m done.”

But Sam could tell from Ember’s narrowed eyes that at least one person hadn’t believed his lie. He supposed he would just have to be more careful. Fortunately, Ruby had given him a flask full of her blood so that he could make it last.

***Sam POV***

May 7, Not Sure When

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Detoxing from demon blood was the worst experience he’d ever had. He had kept up the charade that he had quit the blood until the last day of April, when Ember caught him calling Ruby and begging her for more blood. The flask was gone, and he had lost almost all of his “mojo”, as Dean called it.

“You’re an addict, Sam,” she said, appearing out of nowhere in the gas station he’d chosen to dip into briefly to make his phone call.

“Jesus, Ember! You can’t _do_ that to me!” he shouted, alarmed at her sudden visibility.

“I knew it!” she said. “I knew you were still doing it!”

Sam knew the jig was up. “Okay, okay, fine,” he said. “But I’m taking much less, okay? I have it under control.”

Ember narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care,” she said. “When this case is over, I’m telling Dean. _AGAIN.”_

But, as it turned out, she hadn’t had to tell Dean. Dean had witnessed Sam drinking demon blood himself. Sam had had no choice – he was out of demon blood, and was losing his powers. The group had been confronted by four demons, and Ember was holding two of them, and one of the other ones was in a body that just happened to be Castiel’s vessel’s wife. (It was a long story.) Sam had hoped for one wild moment that if he showed Dean that he could save people, that he could kill the demons without harming the host, that Dean would understand why he drank the blood.

Unfortunately, things didn’t work out that way. Instead, he had been trapped in Bobby’s panic room to “detox” for the past five days.

A lot of it had been a blur. He definitely remembered hallucinating Alastair torturing him. He had also hallucinated himself as a boy, and his mother. He knew that all three of those were hallucinations, because all three of them were dead.

The next time Sam woke up, Ember was towering over his bed, and he was in handcuffs. “Why am I in handcuffs?” he asked her.

“Why not?” she said, smirking at him.

“Are you a hallucination?” Sam asked her.

She was wearing a short skirt and a low-cut top, which was odd in itself. He was fairly certain that he’d seen her in both items, but certainly not together.

“Do you want me to be a hallucination?” she said. Her eyes were boring into his, and they were dark, almost like a predator’s. “I am your _brothers’_ girlfriend, after all.”

“But maybe you don’t _want_ me to be your brother’s girlfriend,” she said, licking her lips seductively and moving closer to him. “Maybe you just want a quick _fuck_.” As she said this, she climbed on top of him and lowered herself down. Sam attempted to move, attempted to wiggle away, anything. He didn’t like Ember like that – she was attractive, sure, but the most attractive thing about her was the demon blood. They were friends, and only friends, and she was his brother’s girl.

But apparently that didn’t stop her from palming him through his jeans, he realized with horror. She was face to face with him now. “After all,” she whispered, and she caught his lower lip between hers, just for a second. “It’s only a matter of time before you can’t control yourself around me anymore. I mean, I’m a demon, _you’re a demon…_ “

Sam closed his eyes, fighting with everything he could to move away from her, and suddenly she disappeared. Dean was standing in her place. Sam let out a sigh of relief, realizing that she, too, had been a hallucination. Was Dean here to let him out? Was it over?

Apparently not. “Monster, Sam, you’re a monster. I tried so hard to pretend that we were brothers, that you weren’t one of the filthy things that we hunt. But we’re not even the same species. You’re _nothing_ to me.”

But then Dean, too, disappeared. And suddenly, Sam realized, the door to the panic room was open.

***Ember POV***

May 13, Night

Someone had let Sam out of the panic room. Dean was sure it was Ruby, but Ember wasn’t so sure. She thought perhaps it was Lilith – perhaps she was strong enough to get past the salted walls. Ember also considered that it might have been the angels. Though she couldn’t think of a motive, she definitely didn’t trust them.

Either way, the boys had never been farther apart. Ember wished that she had told Dean about the demon blood earlier, though admittedly it might not have changed anything. She kept this wish to herself, as Dean was far too busy being broody and angry about Sam to be angry at her for not discussing the matter earlier.

Ember had been unconscious for most of the final brawl between the two boys. She and Dean had confronted Sam and Ruby in the honeymoon suite of the hotel Dean had tracked him to. Sam had been attempting to protect Ruby, and in the process had sent Ember flying across the room, where she’d hit her head on a lamp and blacked out. To his credit, she’d seen the look on his face as he watched her fly across the room – surprise, mostly, at his own strength. He must’ve just had the demon blood, then.

Regardless, when Ember woke up again, Sam was gone, and Dean was staggering around in pain, covered in broken glass, and broody and silent. Since then, she’d tried to call Sam’s phone more than a dozen times (all 4 of them), but he never picked up. Ember had even tried to call from an unknown number and a separate burner phone, but he still didn’t pick up. 

Dean, in contrast, refused to call Sam, which agitated Ember and Bobby to no end. “He’s your brother,” Ember pleaded with Dean. “He could be dying. You do realize, right, that he’s going to go dark side if we don’t do something. Are you going to let that be on your conscience?”

“No, damn it!” Dean said to Ember and Bobby. “No. We gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted to be part of this family. He hated this life growing up – ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it’s like de ja vu all over again. I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants. I’m not even sure if he’s still my brother anymore. If he ever was.”

Fortunately, Bobby was the voice of reason. “You stupid, stupid son of a bitch!” Bobby cried, throwing the paperwork off his desk in his anger. “Well boohoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family’s supposed to make you feel _good?_ Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They’re _supposed _to make you miserable! That’s why they’re family!”

“Gee, thanks, Bobby,” Ember said sarcastically.

“Not _you!”_ snapped Bobby. 

“I told him, ‘You walk out that door, don’t come back,’” said Dean, “And he walked out anyway! That was his choice!”

“You sound like a whiny brat!” exclaimed Bobby. “No. You sound like your Dad. Well let me tell you something – your Dad was a _coward.”_

Ember heard her own intake of breath. Dean stopped short, and turned around slowly. “My Dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?”

“He’d rather push Sam away than reach out to him,” Bobby clarified emphatically. “That don’t strike me as brave. You’re a better man than your Daddy ever was. So you do both of us a favor – don’t be him.”

Ember saw it in Dean’s eyes – the shred of doubt, the guilty look that meant that Dean Winchester knew he had spoken out of line and was ready to call his brother. But before he could, however, Dean disappeared.

“What the hell was _that!” _screamed Ember.

Bobby had screamed, “_Balls!”_ at the same time.

“What happened?” Ember asked Bobby.

“Damn angels,” said Bobby. “Nothing else has the power to do that.”

“Yeah, that was gonna be my guess,” grumbled Ember.

“Balls!” Bobby said again, and took a fire poker from the fire place and beat it against the wall for dramatic effect. “Well, now you get to accompany me for what I do on my _free days,” _Bobby said, beginning to pick up all the things that he had shoved off his desk earlier.

“What’s that?” Ember asked him.

“Worry about those two damn idgits!”

But Ember’s world had gone black. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, her head exploded with pain. She buckled to her knees, and she felt Bobby catch her before she hit the hard floor, and then she couldn’t feel even Bobby anymore.

She was overlooking a convent which was covered in blood. A blond girl whom Ember recognized as Lilith was sitting haphazardly in front of an alter, facing Sam. “You turned yourself into a freak. A monster. And now you’re not gonna bite? I’m sorry, but that is honestly adorable.” Sam was in front of her, looking livid. Suddenly, he raised his hand, and smited Lilith with everything he had. Ember watched in horror as his eyes turned black, and as Lilith keeled over, dead in front of the alter.

But something was wrong. And as Ember continued to watch through her strange premonition, she realized what it was. “You opened the door,” said Ruby, who was standing with Sam. “And now he’s free at last. He’s free at last! And it is written that the first demon shall be the last seal.”

God, she had been so stupid! She had read that, way back when, somewhere. Lilith was the first demon? She should have known. It all made sense… But there was still time! There was still time to tell Sam and Dean. There had to be still time… and then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's important to me to stick with canon, because some of the later stuff that happens in Seasons 9-11 developed for me even before some of this early stuff did, and if I diverge too far from canon now, that whole plotline won't work later. I had to go ahead and have Ember tell Dean about the demon blood, though, because it wouldn't work for her character and their relationship not to… so then I had to tie it all back in to canon later by having him lie about it. Truthfully, I think it's what he would've done. What do you think? Let me know in reviews.
> 
> Also, let me know what you think about the Sam/Ember moment here. This will be a one-off, as it's Sam's hallucination. Please review!


	9. Sympathy for the Devil:  Good God, Y'all!

***Ember POV***

May 14, Very early morning

Ember woke up to the sharp smell of smelling salts. 

It wasn’t a gentle wake-up. “Balls, it’s been near to twenty minutes!” Bobby exclaimed. “I thought I’d lost you. What happened?”

Ember grabbed his arm. “Sam and Dean. Have they called? Can you reach them?”

“I’ve been trying,” Bobby said, not missing a beat.

“Keep trying!” Ember exclaimed.

“What happened?” Bobby said sharply, and Ember told him.

“Balls!” he exclaimed when she was done. “Where was this?”

“No idea!” Ember exclaimed. “God, it just looked like a convent! I don’t know, there was an alter…”

But Bobby was already on the computer, researching convents.

It was barely two hours later, however, when Ember’s phone finally rang. “It’s Dean!” she screamed, nearly leaping out of her chair.

“Hey,” Dean said on the other end of the line.

“What happened?” Ember said on the other end of the line. “Dean, I had a premonition, and you should know, the last seal can’t be _destroyed_ by Lilith, it _is_ Lilith! The last seal is that-…”

“We already know,” said Dean. “It’s already happened.”

“WHAT?” said both Ember and Bobby, who was listening by way of speakerphone.

“Wait, you had a premonition? Are you sure?”

Ember described what had happened in the premonition.

“Well, that’s exactly what happened,” said Dean. “I guess it’s because-…”

“Lucifer has risen, yeah,” Ember said, “That’s what I was thinking. Dean, how did you get away? It sounds like you’re driving. Are you safe?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, and he explained what had happened after the last seal had been broken, including waking up on the plane. “We jacked a car near Ilchester.”

“We’re on our way,” Ember told him.

“We’re going to Indiana to see Chuck,” Dean said. “Cas took me to see Chuck so that we could find the convent where Sam was going to be with Lilith… but by the time Castiel zapped me over to the convent, there was a really angry archangel on his tail. Can you meet us there?”

“Sure thing,” Ember said.

It was late evening by the time Bobby and Ember arrived in Indiana, however. They were just outside the town of Bloomington when four demons accosted them, stopping them in the middle of the road.

Ember glared at them, determined. “I can take three,” Ember said confidently. “Can you hold off the other until I finish the exorcism?”

“Are you sure-…”

“Yeah, I think so, but you’ll have to fight one for a good 30 seconds. Which one do you want?”

“I’ll take the girl,” Bobby said.

Ember froze three of the demons with her force powers, and began the exorcism. “Exorcizamus te-…”

“For Lucifer’s sake,” the woman said, dodging Bobby’s blows. “If you’re going to exorcise them, just _do _it. You don’t need the damn exorcism, not now that Lucifer’s free.”

Ember paid the demon no mind. “Omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis-…”

“Fine, whatever, don’t believe me,” the demon woman said, and before Ember could continue with the exorcism, she watched, as if in slow motion, as she slid her knife into Bobby’s lower back when he took a turn too slow.

Bobby crumpled, and rage enveloped Ember. She wasn’t sure what happened after that, but suddenly the three demons she was holding were gone – not exorcised, Ember knew, but killed, somehow, by her. All three hosts gave Ember frightened looks and ran for their lives.

“There you go,” the demon woman said, shooting Ember a wide smile. As Ember turned toward her, however, a cloud of black smoke erupted from the woman’s mouth, and the demon was gone.

“Damn it!” said Ember. “Bobby?” But Bobby was curled on the ground, bleeding profusely.

***Dean POV***

May 14, Afternoon

Dean would never have admitted it, but he was swirling with emotions. He was worried about Bobby. Bobby had been very lucky, and survived the stabbing, but at a great price; the doctors said he would never walk again, at least not properly. Bobby didn’t talk to anyone for days, and when he did speak, he was grumpy and mean.

Then there was Castiel, who had apparently been killed by Raphael the archangel, but brought back from the dead, presumably by God. He was happy his friend was back, particularly in light of the fact that Castiel had protected Dean at great cost to his own life, but God remained a mystery to everyone.

Meanwhile, Dean couldn’t have been more proud of his girlfriend. He even wondered, for a very small second, if maybe he loved her. He could tell that she blamed herself, at least partially, for Bobby’s stabbing, though both he and Sam had reminded her that Bobby likely wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for her. She had done everything Dean had taught her when it came to first aid, and even so Bobby had barely survived. Still, she was obviously shaken. She had handled nearly as much as he had the previous night – a premonition, the killing of three demons, and Bobby’s stabbing – and had come out of it with at least a partial win, rather than (for example) allowing Lucifer to roam the Earth freely, as he had. 

Speaking of which, Dean was also incredibly upset with his brother. Upset didn’t even begin to describe it. Something had broken between them, something big, and eventually he would have to deal with it.

Most of all, however, he was worried – about Lucifer, and about the news that he had been brought back from Hell to be Michael’s vessel in the apocalypse.

“That’s bullshit,” Ember said. “Don’t you ever agree to that, I don’t care what they bribe you with.”

Dean fully agreed. “Screw the angels, and the demons, and their crap apocalypse. They want to fight a war, they can find their own planet! This one’s ours, and I say they get the hell off it! We take ‘em all on, we kill the devil, hell, we even kill Michael if we have to! But we do it our own damn selves!”

But when Dean headed outside with Sam, he admitted the truth. Ember had stayed inside with Bobby. For the moment, there was no longer anyone around that he felt he needed to be strong to protect. “I can’t keep pretending that everything’s alright, because it’s not,” he told Sam. “And it’s never going to be. You chose a demon over your own damn brother. _Despite_ Ember! And look what happened! You were the one that I depended on the most! And you let me down in ways that I can’t even…” Dean sighed. “I just don’t think that we can ever be what we were… you know? I just don’t think I can trust you.”

***Castiel POV***

May 14, Night

Castiel appeared in the hospital where Bobby was being treated. Bobby was asleep, and he had no visitors that Castiel could see at first glance. He could sense that Ember was in the room, however. Sure enough, when he looked closer, he was able to see her thin outline. She was more powerful, then, with Lucifer out of the cage now. Castiel wondered if she was aware of just how much her power had grown since Lucifer’s release.

A second after Castiel’s entrance, Ember showed herself. “Hey, Cas?” she said.

Castiel hadn’t seen Ember in almost two weeks, since he had just come back from being tortured in Heaven and refused to tell the brothers what he had learned. He hadn’t actually _spoken _to Ember since that day in the hospital, so long ago, before he had realized that Uriel had betrayed them. It was only two months ago, but it felt like two hundred years. Was Ember still mad at him, as she had been then? _“I may be a half-demon, but I’m pretty sure I’m more righteous than you today.” _

Castiel allowed himself to feel again the sensation that he often felt when she was around, only now it seemed to be stronger. It overwhelmed him for a second – he was so drawn to her for a moment that he took a subconscious step toward her before he shook himself out of it. “You don’t have anything mean to say this time,” he observed.

“Dean told me how much you’ve helped,” she confessed. “Thank you.”

Castiel nodded, a wave of relief washing through him that he didn’t understand. He _had _helped a lot, though it had been too little and too late, in the end… Still, Castiel felt more excited than he probably should have that Ember had forgiven him for past transgressions.

Castiel forced himself to focus on business. “I was hoping you would be here,” he said. “Night shift, again?”

“Yes,” she said. “Why are you here?”

“I have already given Dean and Sam protection from the angels,” Castiel said, “But it has occurred to me that you will need it as well.”

“Protection?” she asked.

“Your hex bags will not work for long,” Castiel said. “Lucifer will be too strong. With Sam and Dean, I carved old Enochian sigils on their ribs. But with you being half demon, yours will be more painful. If you do not allow this, however, you will not be able to travel with them as you will give away their location.”

Ember sighed. “On my ribs?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then, go ahead.”

Castiel was surprised. “You would trust this?”

“I trust Dean,” Ember said.

“This will be painful,” Castiel said. He moved closer to her. He didn’t trust himself to touch her, but he realized that he had to. What was this feeling he felt when he was around her? And why was the thought of her trusting Dean suddenly making him so angry? Castiel splayed his hand across her ribs and created the sigils meant to protect her from Lucifer. She cried out, and Castiel had to hold himself back from holding her to make sure she was okay. The urge to reach out to her surprised him, and he yanked his hand backward as if her touch had burned him.

Slowly, she gritted her teeth and gave him a huge smile. “Thanks, Cas.”

“No problem,” he said, and left before he had more time to think about how she made him feel.

***Ember POV*** 

May 17, Late Evening

Ember had a lot to worry about. Her worries were as follows:

  1. The apocalypse. This included the fact that Dean had been labeled “The Michael Sword”, and that Lucifer had risen.

  1. Ember’s increase in powers, which apparently included the power of premonition, and killing demons (and whether this brought her one step closer to “going dark side”).

  1. Bobby. The brothers and Ember were sticking around the hospital until Bobby was released and they felt comfortable sending him home.

  1. Sam. Ember still had a lot of questions that she knew Dean hadn’t thought about.

There wasn’t much Ember could do about Worry #1 at this point, not when she was still waiting for news. There also wasn’t much she could do about Worry #3, aside from spend long nights at the hospital during “non-visiting hours” making sure that Bobby was safe from demons looking for information. 

Castiel stopped in one night and managed to somewhat assuage Worry #2. “You might want to check with some of the other angels, because I cannot tell you for certain,” Castiel said. “But the powers you’re using, as I think Bobby has already theorized, aren’t inherently bad.”

“Because I’m killing demons, not humans?”

“Not entirely. Killing demons itself is a heavenly, good act, however you do it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t bring out your darkness. The deeds that may or may not tempt you to darkness are a bit more hazy, but to my knowledge, there are two factors that would cause you to go ‘more demon.’” (Here, Castiel put his fingers into the air, using mock quotes.)

“The first factor is what the powers are used for, such as if you were using your powers to kill humans or angels, or to torture,” Castiel continued. “If you went on a killing spree of demons and killed a significant amount of hosts in the process, for example, it might tempt your dark side. But you were killing demons to defend yourself and your friends, and sparing the hosts… I would really not worry so much about it.”

Ember nodded, digesting this information. “What’s the other factor?” she asked.

“The other thing that brings out the darkness is the means by which you obtain demonic powers,” said Castiel. “You, being half demon, have them naturally. They are a part of you. Sam, meanwhile, is another story.”

Sam was Worry #4, and this was the worry that Ember found herself obsessing over. She didn’t get to confront Sam about it, however, until a few days after Lucifer’s arrival. It was the night before Bobby was due to be released from the hospital, and Dean was at home doing some maintenance on the Impala. Sam was trading watch shifts with Ember, who had just awakened. “Hey, Sam, wait,” Ember said. “I need to talk to you about something.”

She could see on Sam’s face that he knew exactly what she wanted to talk to him about. His face was twisted with guilt and shame, but he allowed her to speak first.

“Look, I don’t even know what to say about what happened,” Ember said. “I mean, I know you well enough to know that you’re your own worst critic… and if you weren’t, I know Dean has probably given you hell for it.” Ember knew that something had broken between Dean and Sam. Dean had only made a couple of brief comments on the subject, but Ember understood that Dean no longer trusted Sam and was very upset about it. She knew that, eventually, this would come to a head. It was nearly impossible to hunt with someone you don’t trust; Dean had taught her that.

Sam looked relieved that Ember wasn’t going to rehash how upset everyone was, but Ember continued. “There’s one thing I can’t figure out.”

“What’s that?” Sam asked, his relief turning to wariness.

“I’m not stupid about demon blood like Dean is,” Ember said. “You’d have had to drink more than what Ruby could give you to kill Lilith.” 

Sam froze, and paled slightly. There was a beat, and he shook his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said softly, and walked away.

Ember didn’t see Sam again after that for several months. The next morning, the brothers were called out to River Pass, Colorado to deal with a town infested with demons, leaving Ember behind to watch over Bobby. After their experience in River Pass, Dean and Sam decided to separate for awhile. When Dean came back to Sioux Falls to pick Ember up to go hunting again, he came alone.

And that was fine with Ember. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first draft of this, I spared Bobby's legs. But, that didn't work out. I made a trade, and spared some other people later. Let me know in reviews what you think about how I wrote Ember's demon powers.


	10. Free to be You and Me, and The End

***Ember POV***

July

It had been two months since Ember and Dean had said goodbye to Sam, and Ember was ashamed to admit that it had been two of the best months she’d had in a long time. Ember wasn’t naturally violent (at least, her human side wasn’t), but she had turned out to be a better hunter than she thought she would be with the help of her new powers.

It helped that she and Dean hadn’t tackled anything incredibly difficult since Dean had fought War, the Horseman, back in May. They had done a lot of vampire slaying, and killed a few werewolves here and there, as well as two ghouls and a rugaru. 

Ember’s main role, a role which she was ashamed to admit that she liked better than she’d thought she would, was thievery. She never stole from individual people, or even private businesses, but she made a habit of opening ATM machines at 3:00 in the morning, while invisible. Still, she only took what they needed to get by, particularly after her conversation with Castiel about her increase in powers. Castiel hadn’t said for sure whether her specific brand of thievery was frowned upon by Heaven, and she was too scared to ask him. Still, she and Dean had to get by somehow, and neither of them could deny that she was an excellent thief for obvious reasons.

When they weren’t on a case, Ember and Dean found plenty to do. They visited Bobby a couple of times, and went to Indiana to visit friends of Ember’s a couple of times as well. They got up early to see sunrises, and they even went to a beach. Ember could tell that Dean was trying to be romantic in his own way, by suggesting the beach and the sunrises. She was happy that he tried, because she knew that he loved her. He never said so, but she knew anyway. Usually, though, Ember and Dean enjoyed a bacon cheeseburger and copious amounts of sex, and that was good, too. 

If she was honest with herself, Ember would’ve preferred hard work and therapy and a set schedule, but perhaps that was simply because it was what she had always known. This sense of freedom she had hunting with Dean was a nice change, however, and it was necessary, considering the apocalypse. She liked to think that it wouldn’t last forever, like an extended vacation, and she was determined to enjoy it while she had it.

Most of all, Ember felt safe, for the first time in years. Neither of them had seen a demon since Lucifer had risen. They both had a bad feeling that it had to do with whatever Lucifer’s plans for Ember happened to be, and they also knew that it wouldn’t last. Between Ember’s power and Dean’s hunting skills, however, she was confident that they could handle whatever was thrown at them, short of Lucifer himself. And, overall, Ember was happy.

Still, she could see that, though Dean put on a good show, he missed Sam desperately. From time to time, she would catch a faraway look in his eye, and she thought he might be thinking of Sam. When he would tell stories about hunting, Sam was suspiciously absent from all of them, and Ember thought he must be going to great lengths to leave Sam out of stories where he must have played a significant part. Ember was patient, however, and she understood that Dean couldn’t be rushed into healing from this, or even discussing it. She also knew he couldn’t avoid it forever.

***Castiel POV***

July 24, Evening

Castiel was preparing for death. He had searched high and low for the God that had brought him back from the dead, but to no avail. In a last-ditch effort, he had asked for Dean’s help to search for the archangel Raphael, who had been the one to kill him.

“Do we have any chance of surviving this?” Dean asked.

“You do,” said Castiel. He was confident of that. Dean would survive it because he was Michael’s vessel, and Ember would survive it because the angels would be at least somewhat hesitant to piss Dean off as much as killing Ember would require. Michael himself had given the order to leave Ember alive, and the order hadn’t changed, at least not to Castiel’s knowledge. No, Raphael would be sure to go after Castiel. 

“So odds are you're a dead man tomorrow,” said Dean.

Ember asked, “Cas, are you sure you want to do this?”

Castiel answered both questions: “Yes.”

Ember and Dean gave each other a significant look.

“Well. Last night on earth. What are your plans?” Dean asked.

Castiel hadn’t thought about that. “Well, I just thought I’d sit here quietly,” he said honestly.

Ember and Dean exchanged another significant look. Castiel began to feel that he was missing something. “Dude, c’mon. Anything?” Dean asked. “Booze? Women?”

Castiel had considered the prospect; not on this particular night, but in general. But it was not something a respectable angel did.

Of course, he wasn’t exactly a “respectable angel” anymore, either. Now, he was a rebel. Granted, with Dean staring down at him like he had grown a third ear, he didn’t feel much like a rebel.

“You _have_ been with a woman before, right?” Dean asked. “Or an angel at least?” Castiel didn’t answer. “You mean to tell me you’ve never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?”

“Look, I’ve never had occasion, okay?” Castiel said awkwardly. Such things did not become angels.

Ember laughed. “Look, I know angels are all pious, and it’s different than humans, but… you’ve never even _thought _about it?”

Suddenly, a picture came into his mind, unbidden, of himself and Ember in a very, _very _intimate position. _What the hell?_

“”All right,” said Dean determinedly. “Let me tell you something, there are two things that I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are _not _gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let’s go.”

Ember was laughing. “Be careful, okay?” she said, kissing Dean good-bye. “Don’t sleep with any skanks.”

“What about respectable women?” Dean asked teasingly.

Ember looked at Castiel and grinned. “Leave them for Castiel,” she said, kissing him again.

And Dean ushered Castiel into the car. 

It was an awful night. “What did you do?” asked Dean in alarm after the stripper he had chosen for Castiel ran away screaming and calling him a jerk.

“I don’t know,” Castiel confessed, his mind elsewhere. “I just looked at her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the _post office_.”

Dean had begun to laugh. Castiel was glad Dean didn’t know the real reason he seemed inattentive, however. How could he be attracted to a half-demon? How could he be attracted to Dean’s girlfriend? He had never been attracted to _anybody_, in the thousands of years of his existence! Because that’s what it was, he realized. It had hit him like a ton of bricks, in there with Chaste, or Chastity, or whatever her stupid name was, and for the life of him he didn’t understand it.

How could he have feelings for Ember?

***Dean POV***

September 17, Dusk

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

It had been four months since Dean and Sam had parted ways. To anyone who asked, Dean would say that he’d never been happier. His Impala was in good shape, and for the first time in his life, he had a reliable woman beside him. He’d always considered himself to be a free agent, but secretly he’d also wished for a woman who could keep up with him, who would be strong-willed enough to tie him down without being overbearing enough to feel like a ball and chain. This had only intensified since he had reunited with Lisa, and even more so since his time in Hell. 

Ember was that woman, he knew it. If he had thought about it, and if he believed in such things, he would have been certain that she was “the one.” He didn’t believe in such things, however, and he tried not to think about it, and that seemed to be fine with Ember – she never pushed him for a further commitment, for which he was thankful. Agreeing to a relationship had been easy when he’d finally come to terms with it, but at this point their lives were far too turbulent to make a more permanent commitment. He had a feeling Ember felt this way as well, because he wasn’t the only one that avoided long-term-related conversations. 

The few long-term conversations they did have always began with “if we survive the Apocalypse.” “If we survive the Apocalypse,” Ember said once, “I’m going back to doing therapy and hunting on the side.”

“If we survive the Apocalypse,” Dean replied, “We’re going to have a threesome.”

Ember laughed. “No. No, we’re not. You might. But it won’t be with me.”

Dean pretended to think it over. “Well, never mind then.”

Truthfully, Dean had always thought that a long-term relationship would be stifling, but in actuality he found it anything but. Dean had difficulty believing that he had ever survived having sex only once every couple of months, when he got lucky while hunting. Sex with Ember was better than anything he ever could have dreamed. She could do really incredible things with her tongue (both visible and not), and she had the strength to withstand rough sex if they chose. She was also adventurous enough to do it in a number of random places – in a field, against a tree, and, of course, in the back seat of the Impala. Dean thought, often, that he was glad that Sam wasn’t around, because his lifestyle currently involved an awful lot of sex. Still, he was also forced to acknowledge that even sex was slightly more fun when you had someone to brag to about it (especially someone who wasn’t getting laid whose face he could rub it in).

Sometime after his experience with Castiel and Raphael, Dean finally began discussing Sam again. Dean was ashamed to admit that once he finally broached the subject, it seemed to come up all the time. They discussed their mutual distrust of Sam, their worry about him, their disappointment in him, and their concern over what he was doing now.

Dean didn’t hear from Sam, however, until he called late one night in early September. Sam explained over the phone that Lucifer had come to him in a dream and attempted to convince him to be his vessel. It didn’t change anything though, Dean had told Sam sadly. “We’re the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. On that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere… stay away from each other for good.”

“What the hell were you playing at?” Ember asked him the next morning, after he told her about his conversation.

Dean was surprised at her reaction. “What do you mean what am I playing at?” he snapped back to her. “You were the one that told me he drained a girl, and that you didn’t trust him to hunt.”

“Yeah, I _don’t_ trust him to hunt,” Ember said, “but I trust him even less to hunt _without us. _I mean, it was one thing when he was lying low, staying out of the apocalypse, and only fighting whatever demon happened to wander into him at the time,” Ember said. “But now he’s supposed to be Lucifer’s vessel? How long is he going to stay hidden, Dean? If there was ever a time he needs you, it’s now. Besides,” she said, rolling her eyes, “Bobby’s seen him a couple of times over the summer, and he says he’s stayed off the blood.”

“You think?” Dean said, slightly hopeful despite himself.

Ember sighed. “Sam’s headstrong, and angry, and an idiot. But he knows now what the demon blood did to him, and he’s not going to make the same mistake again. Dean… the three of us are stronger together. And I’ll be honest… you haven’t been the same since Sam left.”

Dean knew it was true, but he refused to acknowledge it.

The final straw, however, was when the angel Zachariah, apparently in an effort to convince Dean to be Michael’s vessel, transported Dean five years into the future. In Zachariah’s future, Dean had refused to be Michael’s vessel, but Sam had agreed to be Lucifer’s vessel. Dean was alone in that world, aside from a smattering of followers to which he apparently had no real loyalty. Bobby was long gone, and so was Ember, according to the few people who had ever heard of her. 

Apparently the angels thought that showing him this possible future would convince him to be Michael’s vessel, but clearly they didn’t understand how determined Dean was on the subject. He didn’t expect to survive this apocalypse. He did have some control over his life up until he was killed, however, and he was determined that he wouldn’t spend his last days on Earth as a damn angel condom. Dean’s glimpse of a possible future did change his mind about one thing, however: he’d be damned if he let his brother be an angel condom, either.

“We keep each other human,” Dean said to Sam the next day. He looked at Ember, who was back in the Impala, on the phone with her mother. “All of us keep each other human.”

“How does Ember feel about this?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed. “She was the one who first told me to bring you back, even before I wanted to,” Dean admitted, “before I decided it for myself in the end.”

Sam sighed. “I have a lot to apologize to her for. A lot of kissing up to do.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thank you. Really, thank you. I won’t let you down.”

“Oh, I know it,” Dean said. “I mean, you are the _second _best hunter on the planet.”

“So, what do we do now?” Sam asked. 

“We make our own future,” Dean said, with determination.


	11. I Believe the Children Are Our Future

***Dean POV***

October

If Dean was honest with himself (which he usually wasn’t), he would have admitted that the past month or so had been quite possibly the best month of his life. He was doing, on a constant basis, the two things he liked best – having sex, and hunting things with his brother. His relationship with Ember had never been stronger, and fortunately Sam still felt guilty enough about the whole Lucifer debacle that he wasn’t as much of a cock-block as he might have been. And, just as good, Sam was back in his life, filling a hole that Dean hadn’t been willing to admit to himself was there. With the two of them by his side, for the first time in his life, Dean felt unstoppable.

***Ember POV***

October 15, Day

Near the middle of October, Ember and the brothers ended up in Alliance, Nebraska, to investigate a woman who had literally scratched her skin off with itching powder. Other similar murders occurred shortly after the three had arrived; a man was electrocuted by a joy buzzer, and two kids ended up in the hospital from mixing pop rocks and coke. Even more odd, a local man’s face had gotten stuck in the same position while he was making a funny face, and another local man whose teeth had been pulled out claimed that he had seen the tooth fairy. Dean even ended up with a hairy palm from masturbating. (“We had sex _last night_,” Ember reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Next time _you _can go out and squirm into a bank vault for an hour, and _I’ll _sit in the hotel room and eat ham and masturbate!”)

Ultimately, Dean realized that all of the events were “all lies that kids believe.”

“So whatever’s doing this is reshaping reality,” Sam added. “It has the powers of a god... or, of a trickster.”

“Yeah, with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old,” Dean added.

“Or you,” added Sam.

Their search ultimately brought them to a farm house in the middle of what Dean and Sam called the “splash zone of weirdness.” The boy living in the farm house, Jesse, was definitely the source of all the odd things happening in town, the brothers concluded almost immediately.

“What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?” Dean asked.

“That stuff will make you scratch your brains out,” he responded immediately.

“Pop rocks and coke?” Dean asked.

“You mix them, and you’ll end up in the hospital. Everyone knows that.”

“What if you make a really funny face and hold it that way for a long time?” Ember asked.

“It’ll stick that way,” said Jesse immediately.

Dean pulled out the joy buzzer. “You shouldn’t have that,” Jesse said immediately.

“Why not?” Dean asked.

“It can electrocute you!” Jesse said.

Dean turned it over in his hand. “Actually, it can’t,” he said. “It’s just a wind-up toy. It’s totally harmless. Doesn’t even have batteries.”

“So it can’t shock you?” Jesse asked.

“Nope. Not at all. I swear.”

“Oh,” Jesse said, looking disappointed. “Okay.”

“I mean, all it does is just shake in your hand,” Dean continued. “It’s kinda lame. See?” And he held it up against Sam.

Ember knew she probably shouldn’t have found this funny considering the joy buzzer had killed a man and then electrocuted a ham a few hours earlier, but perhaps this life was affecting her sense of judgment. She stifled her laughter at the look on Sam’s face as he got a very small shock.

“What’d you say your name was again?” Dean asked.

“It’s Jesse,” said the boy. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Ember said, because Jesse was looking at her.

“You sure smell nice. Are you wearing perfume?”

Ember froze, and she could see that Dean and Sam had as well. Both of them looked to her, questioning their next move. Ember shrugged. “Well, Jesse, I guess that’s all we have to ask you today. We might be back…. um, later. Is there a number we could call you at?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jesse said, and wrote down his number.

As soon as they were out the door, Sam and Dean both turned to Ember.

“_You sure smell nice?_ What the hell?” Sam asked.

“Is he a demon?” Dean asked.

“No,” Ember said, alarmed.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

“Uh, _yeah_,” Ember said. “I mean, I’ve never met a demon that could _hide_ being a demon, not from me. Do you think... maybe he was just a kid being nice?” She knew as she said it that even she didn’t believe that.

“There’s no such thing as a coincidence,” Dean said.

Apparently it was time for some research.

***Ember POV***

October 15, Afternoon

Ember couldn’t believe it. In all of her life, through all of the books she’d read, and online searching, and even hunting, she had never met another half-demon.

Sam had unearthed that Jesse had been adopted. When they had gone to visit Jesse’s mother, Julia, she had revealed that a demon had possessed her for 9 months, until she had had the child. After she had had the child, she had managed to take control and exorcise the demon, after which she had put Jesse up for adoption.

A million thoughts swirled in Ember’s head on the way to the motel, but she was interrupted by Sam. “Why didn’t you tell the mother? About you?”

Ember laughed. “The less anyone knows about me the better, Sam,” Ember said. “And you have to understand, that woman hates demons. She wouldn’t think of it as a shared experience… no, she’d just be terrified of me. She’s had enough scares for one lifetime,” Ember said. 

“You’re probably right,” Sam said. “Hey, Ember, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” Ember said, already guessing what the question was going to be.

“Bobby’s your father, right? But that woman… she was a virgin when she got pregnant with the demon’s child.”

Ember sighed. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you were going to ask. The answer is, I didn’t know that was _possible_. Maybe… maybe we should call Cas. He’ll know more about these things. I probably should’ve done that a long time ago. I’ve never really asked him about me. It’s probably past time, to be honest.”

***Castiel POV***

October 15, Evening

Castiel rarely missed calls, but when Dean called he was flying as fast as he could away from three angels, each only slightly less powerful than himself. It was another three hours before he managed to shake them long enough to address the red light on the primitive electronic device he had managed to buy a few weeks before.

“Cas, hey,” said Dean’s voice. “We might need you. There’s a young boy here causing some trouble… a few people have died already. His mother was possessed, got pregnant, some kind of weird-ass immaculate conception. She put the boy up for adoption, and now he’s making weird things happen. Alliance, Nebraska, in the Motel 6. Room 114.”

Castiel flew immediately the Motel 6 in Alliance, Nebraska, but the hotel room was vacant. He could see items that he recognized as belonging to the Winchesters, however – a duffel bag that he knew to be Sam’s, and Ember’s computer. He would wait for their return, then. In the mean time, he reached out with his powers, scanning the surrounding town.

Castiel was a fairly powerful angel, probably one of the most powerful currently walking the Earth, though not by any means one of Heaven’s finest. His vast experience with the humans and other Earth beings allowed him to reach out with his mind and find other creatures, to be able to identify each individual being, better than most other angels. He could feel even from here, for example, the small pull of Ember’s demonic power. It was stronger than his own power, he knew, and with its strength its pull on Castiel intensified. This pull was currently mostly concealed by the hex bags she carried and the Enochian markings on her ribs. Castiel could still sense it, however, because he knew exactly what he was looking for. He couldn’t feel any other half-demons, however.

Castiel dug deeper, reaching into the depths of his power and doing a more thorough search for demonic energy of any sort. There were two or three demons hanging around, but they were low-level, and he couldn’t pinpoint their exact locations – they must be miles away. And there was something else…

It was a feeling he had never felt before. It felt like warding… natural warding given off by a creature, covering up some sort of demonic energy. It was so subtle that Castiel never would have sensed it if he hadn’t known exactly what he was looking for due to his time around Ember. Now that he did sense it, however, he focused upon it, and was shocked that he hadn’t found it before.

This half-demon was different from Ember, Castiel could tell. It _was _a half-demon, Castiel could sense that much; at the base, it was the same powerful demonic energy that Castiel associated with a half-demon being. Ember’s power acted like a beacon to other angels and demons, though currently it was shielded by the hex bags and the Enochian warding. This being’s power was the inverse of hers, Castiel could tell – it was a natural shield. Even if Castiel had wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint this being’s exact location.

Suddenly, Sam, Dean, and Ember entered the motel room. “I take it you got our message,” said Sam, sitting down at the small table.

“It’s lucky you found the boy,” Castiel said.

“Oh, yeah, real lucky,” said Dean sarcastically. “What do we do with him?”

“Kill him,” said Castiel immediately. He knew none of the three of them were going to want to go along with his plan, but there was no other alternative.

“Cas,” Dean started, and Sam, Dean, and Ember all looked at each other dubiously.

Castiel sat down at the table next to Sam, and was alarmed to hear a giant fart. What was wrong with his vessel? Horrified, Castiel shifted position, but the noises continued. Dean watched, raising his eyebrows, and Ember had started giggling.

“That wasn’t me,” Castiel insisted, finally pulling out a whoopee cushion.

“Who put that there?” Dean asked, but Castiel could tell that it had been Dean’s idea of a joke.

Castiel ignored the whoopee cushion, tossing it aside, and swallowed down his embarrassment. “This child is half demon and half human,” Cas said, “But it’s far more powerful than either.” 

“Cas.” Ember said. “Hel_lo.”_

He really should have known this would be a difficult issue for Ember, in particular, he thought. He supposed he could chalk this up to her human side. “Ember, this is different,” he said. “The angels were willing to withhold judgment on you because you were already fully grown, had never taken a human or angel life, and were already more allied with Heaven than Hell,” Castiel said. “None of which apply to this boy.”

“That’s not _fair,_” Ember raged, “He’s _nine_, Cas.”

“I’ll agree it is unfortunate,” Castiel said in his deep voice. “Perhaps if he had time for his powers to mature with puberty, like yours, instead of all at once-…”

“Is this about Lucifer rising?” Ember asked.

“When was the last time you tested the full extent of your powers?” asked Castiel.

“I don’t make a habit of it,” Ember grumbled.

“See if you can move me with your powers,” Castiel said.

“What?” Ember asked. “But you’re an angel!”

“_See_ if you can _move me,” _Castiel repeated. “I’m braced.” He could sense exactly how powerful she was, but he also suspected that she had no idea how powerful she had grown. This was no longer allowable, if they were to take an offensive stance against Lucifer. Still, it was a mark of the trust between them, and of their mutual trust for Dean, that Castiel took this step in proving his point to the half-demon woman.

Ember sighed. “Fine. Whatever.” And she hit Castiel with the full blast of her powers.

In slow motion, Castiel was blasted off his feet, and hit the wall opposite, where he slid down to the floor, unhurt.

Sam and Dean stared at Ember in horror, and Ember was shocked. “I’m so sorry, Cas! I didn’t mean to-…”

Castiel ignored her, his point made. “It is thought that these demon spawn will be one of the devil’s greatest weapons in the war against Heaven,” he said, standing up and brushing himself off.

Dean shook his head. “If Jesse’s a demonic Howitzer then what the hell’s he doing in Nebraska?” Dean asked.

“The demons lost him. They can’t find him. But they’re looking,” Castiel answered. He knew from his forays into Hell recently that the demons were looking for a human who was also half-demon, but until tonight he had assumed that this referred to Ember. Perhaps not, however.

“And they lost him because?” Dean asked.

“Because of the child’s power,” Castiel answered, thinking of the natural warding the child was giving off. “It hides him from both angels and demons… for now.”

“Oh _great!”_ Ember exploded. “Of course, _he_ gets powers that _hide_ him from demons… _I_ get powers that _attract_ demons like a damn _beacon!”_

Something clicked in Castiel’s brain. This half-demon boys’ powers hid him from angels and demons alike. Ember’s powers attracted angels and demons alike. They not only attracted angels and demons in the way of leading them to Ember’s location, but also on a more supernatural pheromone level, if there was such a thing.

Of course! Castiel had been so _stupid!_ He had made the classic angel mistake that lately he had thought he had finally risen above. He had thought himself so different from humans, and even from the demons which were humans twisted by Lucifer, that he had considered himself above the base attraction that drew salivating demons to this woman. Even when the signs had been all around him, he had still ignored the obvious. Other angels had not seemed to suffer similarly around Ember… but none of them would admit to being attracted to a half-demon, would they? He certainly hadn’t. Besides, he had been the only angel to ever enter her mind; he was confident of that, and it made him feel possessive, in a very human way. 

Relief flooded through him. He was not demonic after all, not suffering some ailment as a result of the Fall… 

“It seems like you may have powers that are the reverse of his,” Castiel said finally.

“Wait a second,” Ember said. “Do my powers… do they attract_ angels_, too?”

“Yes,” said Castiel. “And I must be honest with you, I’m extremely relieved. Now I understand these feelings I’ve always had for you. For a moment I was scared I was actually attracted to a _demon_!”

Castiel knew immediately that he had mis-stepped, but it was too late to retract his statement. Three things happened at once.

Sam exploded with laughter. Dean said, “Dude! Haven’t you ever heard of _bro code?”_

Ember said, “_Fuck_ you, Castiel! Fuck you and all your stupid angel friends!” and slapped him across the face.

***Ember POV***

October 15, Night

It was several minutes after Castiel’s outburst before the group calmed down. Ember was still hurt by Castiel’s words, and Dean kept shooting her looks as though he was afraid she might throw Castiel against a wall again. Castiel had apologized profusely and admitted that he “could see how you interpreted that differently than the way it was meant”, and Sam had gotten Ember and Dean to calm down enough to focus on the task at hand after he’d finally stopped laughing.

“So, he’s got, like, a force field around him?” Dean asked. “Well, that’s great. Problem solved.”

“With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong,” Castiel reminded them. “Soon he will do more than just make a few toys come to life. Something that will draw the demons to him. The demons _will _find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then with a word, this _child_ will destroy the host of heaven.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait,” said Dean. “You’re saying that Jesse’s gonna nuke the angels?”

“Why?” asked Ember. “_I’d_ never nuke the angels.”

“You understand what’s at stake,” Castiel said, “That has already been determined. The angels want you alive. They think that if you were going to be twisted to Lucifer’s purpose, you would have done so a long time ago. Or, at least, they think that for the time being you are doing more good than harm. This boy is different. He’s still in his formative years, and there have _already_ been deaths. We cannot allow this to happen. The boy _must _die. I am sorry, Ember.”

And before Ember could send a blast of power his way to pin him, Castiel disappeared.

A few minutes later, Dean, Ember, and Sam broke down the door to Jesse’s house. “Was there a guy here?” Dean asked in a panic. “In a trench coat?”

But the damage was already done. A very small action figure version of Castiel lay on the floor. Jesse was clearly terrified – his eyes were wide, and he was shaking slightly. “Was he your friend?” he asked.

“Him?” Dean asked. “No,”

“I did that,” Jesse said. “But how did I do that?”

Both Dean and Sam looked at Ember. “Jesse… what have your parents told you about your birth?”

“They don’t talk about it much,” he said, his eyes getting wider. “But Mommy doesn’t have any pictures of when she was pregnant like all my friends’ mommies. Steve said maybe I was adopted.”

“Well…. Steve was right,” Ember said gently. “And your real father… well, he was a demon.” Ember watched Jesse’s eyes widen as if in slow motion.

“Finally, the truth comes out!” said a singsong voice from the doorway. It was Jesse’s mother Julia, clearly possessed by a demon. She sent Dean flying across the room, and Sam as well. 

Ember quickly pinned Julia against the wall. “You must have been very stupid to come here,” Ember told the demon. She could sense that it was more powerful than a usual grunt… but not that powerful. “You must have known I travel with the Winchesters.”

“That’s why I didn’t come alone,” the demon said. And three more demons piled in through the door.

It was a “do or die” situation. Ember wasn’t sure how many demons she could handle. Her power had quite clearly grown even since her fight with Bobby, if her interaction with Castiel earlier had been any indication, but she still wasn’t sure she could take on all four demons. She felt the familiar power spring from her, however, far more powerful even than it had been earlier with Castiel. All four humans hit the back wall, and all four demons were dead.

“What did you do?” asked Jesse in alarm.

“They’re okay,” Ember said. “Look!” 

And so they were. A few seconds later, a couple of the men began to stir. One by one, the three men got to their feet in Jesse’s living room, all of them in various states of shock. It didn’t take long for them to leave. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m out of here,” the biggest man said, and the other two followed on his heels. 

“What just happened?” Jesse asked in alarm.

“Jesse… over there is your biological mother. Her name is Julia.”

“Is… is she okay?” Jesse asked.

“Just passed out,” said Dean, who had gone over to feel for a pulse. “She should be fine when she wakes up.”

“The thing in her was a demon,” Ember said. “You’re half demon, and half human. And so am I.. My name is Ember Nelson. This is my boyfriend, Dean Winchester, and his brother Sam. We hunt monsters. We’re sorry we couldn’t tell you sooner.”

Jesse began to cry. “I… I don’t understand,” he said clearly very upset. “Why… why all of a sudden? Why did nobody tell me before?”

It was Sam who spoke. “There’s a, kind of a… a war, between angels and demons. And you’re a part of it,” Sam explained.

Jesse looked at Ember for reassurance, but Ember bowed her head. “You’re very powerful,” Ember said. “Both of us are. We’re more powerful than the demons or the angels. I just killed four demons. And the man you turned into an action figure… he was an angel.”

“I’m just a kid!” Jesse said, crying. Her heart went out to him. She knew he was terrified.

“I know,” Ember said. “But the truth is that you’re lucky to have managed to stay hidden from both sides until now. You’ll have to choose a side before this whole thing is over.”

“And if you choose the wrong one,” Sam said, “Millions of people will die.”

“I’m really… I’m really half demon?” Jesse asked, disbelieving.

Ember looked at him with pity, her heart breaking for him. She couldn’t imagine going through this at the age of 9… it was bad enough going through it at the age of 13. Even at 13, she had barely been able to do a few party tricks… she had been nowhere near as powerful as they both were now, with Lucifer on the rise.

“Yes,” Sam said. “But you’re half human, too. You can do the right thing. You’ve got choices, Jesse. But if you make the wrong ones, it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jesse yelled, his voice breaking.

“Because I have to believe _someone_ can make the right choice, even if _I _couldn’t,” Sam said. Ember looked up and realized that Sam was staring at her. She gave him a slow smile. She knew how sorry he was about everything that had happened with Lucifer. Finally, finally, she was beginning to forgive him.

***Ember POV***

October 16, Very Early Morning (Still Dark)

“Okay, what now?” Jesse asked.

It had been another half an hour of explanations, but Jesse finally fully trusted them and understood his situation. Ember was beginning to get excited. She had never known another half demon before. She had been scared for him, and scared for the rest of the world, when she first found out about him. Now, however, she was optimistic, relieved, and even happy. She could teach him how to control his power. She could make sure he was kept in check. Maybe she could move him back to Bobby’s and they could hide there, together, until they were needed for the Apocalypse.

Apparently Dean was thinking the same thing. “Now we take you someplace safe,” Dean said. “Get you trained up. You’d be handy in a fight, kid.”

“What if I don’t want to fight?” Jesse asked.

“Jesse,” Ember said. “You’re powerful. More powerful than… than me, even, I think. I’m not sure yet. That makes you…”

“A freak?” Jesse said.

“To some people, maybe,” Sam said. “But not to us. See, we’re kind of freaks ourselves.”

“I can’t stay here, can I?” Jesse asked.

“No,” Dean said. “The demons know where you are, and more will be coming.”

“I won’t go without my Mom and Dad.”

“There’s nothing more important than family,” Sam said. “And if you really want to take them with you, we’ll back your play. But you gotta understand…. it’s gonna be dangerous for them, too.”

“It’ll be best for them if they don’t know anything about you, especially where you are,” Ember said. “I’ve had to move away from everything… my mother, my home, and even my friends. But it’s kept them all safe.” _Except for Carl_, she added to herself.

“Jesse, you’re in this fight,” Dean said, “and you’re in it until the end. Win or lose.”

“What should I do?” Jesse asked.

“Come with us,” Ember said. “We can go back to my father’s house. His house is protected from demons and angels, and you’ll be safe there. Dean can add some protection to your parents’ home before we leave, too. Things they won’t notice, but will keep them safe.”

“It’s not fair, I know,” said Sam.

“Can I go see my parents?” Jesse asked. “I… I need to say good-bye.”

Ember smiled at him. “Sure, kiddo.”

Twenty minutes later, however, Jesse had not come back downstairs. Ember knew, without having to go upstairs, what he had done. She had hoped against hope that he’d make a different decision. But, if she was honest with herself, she’d known from the start that she’d never see him again. 

***Ember POV***

Late October

It was nearly a week after their time with Jesse before Ember felt back to normal. She had been so close ­– _so close_ – to having a real relationship with someone else like her. If she was honest with herself, she had always wanted children, though she had never considered having them, not since she found out she was half demon. For a second, Ember had gotten a glimpse of what it may have been like to have a child, and then it had been snatched away.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Castiel’s lack of knowledge about the paternity of half-demons was highly frustrating. She finally had time to ask him about her paternity issues after the incident with Jesse was over and Castiel had been restored to his former self. “That I don’t know,” he told her. “You really ought to ask another angel these questions.”

“Cas, you’re the only angel I don’t want to stab through the head with an angel blade,” Ember said.

“Well, that’s just highly unnecessary,” he responded. He thought a second, then asked, “Don’t humans have some way of telling who the father is?”

“Yeah, a paternity test,” said Sam. “But Bobby would have to be involved in it, and he hasn’t been the same since he lost his legs.” The last few times they’d spoken with Bobby, he had been increasingly surly and grumpy.

“In that case, I’m not sure if I really even want the answer,” Ember asked. “I mean, does it really matter?”

Sam and Dean stared at her. “I mean, Bobby’s been my father for… well, for years. My Mom got back in touch with him after she found out I was half demon. No amount of demon or non-demon is going to make him any less my father. And maybe… maybe we just shouldn’t tell him there might be a possibility that he’s not _actually_ my father.”

Ember was just starting to get used to the idea of never knowing for sure whether Bobby was her father when the situation was taken out of her hands. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me I might not be your father?!” Bobby roared over the phone to Ember.

“What – how did you-…”

“How did I find out? You must’ve told your mother about Julia and Jesse, right? Well, your mother called and asked if I could pay a visit to Julia, teach her how to protect herself, like I did you two.”

Shit.

“Bobby, I’m sorry!” Ember said. “I mean, you’ve been in the hospital, you know, and-…” She knew immediately it had been a stupid thing to say, and so she quickly backtracked. “It doesn’t matter whether I was conceived by some damn demon or not, does it?” Ember thought for a second that maybe Bobby would look at her differently now.

“Of course it doesn’t matter, ya idgit!” Bobby screamed at her from the other end of the line. “It’d just be nice to be _told_ things once in a damn while! Instead, everybody thinks I’m _too old and sick _to find out bad news!” And Bobby hung up on her, and didn’t speak to any of the three of them for a week.


	12. Abandon All Hope

***Ember POV***

Halloween

The next time Ember saw Bobby, he had gambled away 25 years of his life to a 900-year-old witch. The whole thing was a disaster, not least because witches were immune to Ember’s power, but fortunately Dean and Sam were able to straighten the whole thing out. 

“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” Ember shouted at Bobby and Dean, who had also bet away years of his life. “I love you two more than nearly anybody else in the world, and you go gambling years of your life away for what? A pretty face?”

She turned to Bobby. “I don’t give a rats’ ass how you feel about whatever demon may or may not be my father, or about your damn legs! You ever do that again, I’ll take away more than your damn legs!”

Ultimately, Ember and Bobby decided not to find out whether or not he was her real father. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Ember said. “I just didn’t want to disappoint you when it didn’t really mean that much to me anyway. We know I have demon powers. But you’ve always been my father. There’s never been anyone else taking that position, and there never will be.”

***Ember POV*** 

November 19, Evening

Shortly after Halloween, Dean and Sam both disappeared for nearly two weeks. Ember might have gone insane during this time if it hadn’t been for Castiel, who did his best to search for the brothers and gave Ember updates when he could. As it turned out, the brothers were stuck in a television universe created by the Trickster, who turned out to be the angel Gabriel. Fortunately they were able to escape, and Dean and Ember solidified the reunion by springing for their own motel room for once to have sex, rather than simply asking Sam to leave for awhile.

Ember’s 26th birthday was on November 15th, and she and the brothers took a brief trip back to Indiana to see her mother, a luxury which she rarely afforded herself. Shortly after her birthday, however, the brothers miraculously managed to gain back the Colt, a gun which could reportedly kill anything. They had thought that it was gone forever to Lilith, but it was in fact in the possession of Crowley, one of Lilith’s subordinates. Sam, Dean, and Ember ambushed Crowley at his house, but he was more willing to give up the Colt than they had expected. He even killed two of his subordinates who were holding Sam and Dean hostage.

“I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face,” Crowley told them.

“And _why _exactly would you want the devil dead?” asked Dean.

“It’s called survival,” Crowley said. “But I forgot, you two, at best, are functioning morons.” Then, to Ember’s discomfort, he looked her straight in the eyes, though she previously had thought that he couldn’t see her while she was invisible. “Speaking of which, even if I couldn’t see you, which I can, I’d definitely be able to smell you. You wreak. Went a little overboard on the men’s cologne, there, love.”

Ember seethed at him, but said nothing, and instead became visible.

Crowley continued. “Lucifer isn’t a demon, remember? He’s an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you’re just… filthy bags of pus. And if that’s the way he feels about you, what can he think about us?”

“But he created you,” Sam said.

“To him we’re just servants,” Crowley answered. “Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind… we’re next. So… help me, hmm? Let’s all go back to simpler, better times. Back to when we could all follow our natures. I’m in sales, damn it! So, what do you say? What if I give you this thing… and you go kill the devil?”

“Okay,” Sam said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the devil is, by chance… would you?”

“Thursday, birdies tell me, he has an appointment in Carthage, Missouri.”

***Dean POV***

November 21, Day

Carthage Missouri went to shit almost as soon as Dean, Sam, Ember, and Castiel arrived, accompanied by their friends Jo and Ellen. Castiel disappeared within the first five minutes, shortly after telling them that there were reapers – lots of reapers, according to Ember.

Then the demon Meg showed up, complete with “Hellhounds!” Ember shouted. “I’ll hold them off! Run!”

Sam took off with Jo and Ellen to the nearest building, a gas station, but Dean stayed with Ember. He was alarmed to see that it was taking her more effort than it should have done to hold off the hellhounds, though he could hear many of them yelping in pain. “Ember!” he said, alarmed.

“Run!” she said, and finally she ran with him, with Dean shooting backward at what appeared to be nothing. Just as they reached the gas station, Ember screamed, and Dean saw a gash appear down the side of her leg. A loud yelp was heard right at Dean’s feet, and Dean pulled Ember the rest of the way into the gas station. Sam was already ready with salt, throwing it behind them into the doorway.

Ember fell against the cash register, cradling her gashed leg. Jo ran up quickly and began to wrap it.

“They were ready for me,” Ember said, pursing her lips from the pain. “They knew you’d be here, and they knew I’d be with you. That demon… you knew her, Dean?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, throwing more salt to Dean. “We’ve met.”

“She’s the one that stabbed Bobby,” Ember told the boys flatly.

Both of them stopped what they were doing in shock, then quickly resumed. “I’ll kill that bitch,” Dean said, anger boiling up inside him.

“What happened?” Jo said. “Dean told me you took out four demons a few weeks ago.”

“The demons know I’m getting stronger,” Ember said. “So they brought reinforcements.”

“How many hellhounds?” Dean asked.

Ember said, ‘’I don’t know, maybe… God, more than 20, less than fifty… maybe 25? 30? I got over half of them, but… my _head_. I think I overdid it a little… I feel… really weird. It’s not just my leg, it’s… like when you read too many books? Except… so, so much worse.” Ember was holding onto her head as though it ached horribly.

“Will you be okay?” Dean asked her, worried.

“I should be, but… I can’t guarantee how much help I’ll be against the rest of the hellhounds. It feels like a premonition coming on, but I’m not… ahhhhgggh, I’m not seeing anything!” She seemed to be trying to focus on Dean’s face.

“Do you know how many hellhounds are left?” Dean asked. 

With what seemed like great effort, Ember stood. “Ember, don’t-…” Sam began, but Ember told him to be quiet.

Dean, understanding what she was trying to do, helped her carefully over to the window. “There are 6 left,” she said slowly, staring into the darkness as though she was having troule focusing. Then she added, “Damn,” and Dean could see that this time she was smiling slightly, through her grimace.

“What?” asked Dean.

“I killed… 20, maybe? Most of the others.”

“Wow!” everyone said. Sam arrived near the window with a chair for her so that she could sit down and look out the window.

“What are you seeing now?” Dean asked.

“Six death dogs, all yapping away trying to get in here,” Ember said, trying for sarcasm but failing in her exhaustion. “Meg is gone, though, but there are another couple demons that have come and gone over the past few minutes. What do we do?”

“Salt lines are holding up,” Sam reported. “Safe for now.”

“Safe, or trapped like rats,” Ember said, wincing again. “I don’t think I can take six hounds right now, much less the 2 demons… It feels like my head is exploding. God, I keep getting these stabbing pains!”

“We’ve gotta figure out something,” Dean said to Sam in an undertone. “You heard Meg. Lucifer is _here._ This is our one shot, and we gotta take it no matter what.”

“I think I’ve got a radio working,” Ellen said from the corner.

“Dean? Ember? Sammy?” came Bobby’s voice on the radio.

It took about ten minutes, but Bobby was able to work out from the presence of the reapers that Lucifer was most likely in town to perform a ritual to summon Death, the worst of the Four Horsemen.

Just as they hung up with Bobby, Ember let out one long scream and crumpled to the floor. Dean ran over to her, but by the time he reached her she already had her eyes open.

“What’s happened?” he asked her in alarm.

“Death!” she said. “Dear God my head hurts! Death is… he’s going to summon him, tonight, at midnight! Lucifer…. He’s killed half the town, and all the rest are demons.

“What?” asked Dean.

“Where?” Sam asked.

“How?” said Jo.

“Slow down,” said Ellen. “How the hell are we going to get out of this gas station, for starters? Ember can’t give us any guarantees, and without her powers we’re all gonna get ourselves killed.” Ember gave a small cry.

“What if we built a bomb?” Jo asked. “Ember, if you don’t kill even one of those hellhounds, they’ll have our scent forever. We’ve got to figure out a way to wipe them all out at once.”

“Who’s going to set off the bomb?” Dean asked.

“I will,” said Ember.

“No!” Dean said. “Absolutely not.”

Ember rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic,” she said, “I’ll detonate it remotely. Shrapnell is easier for me to hold back than hellhounds.”

“You’re sure?” Sam asked her.

Ember shrugged, wincing as she did so. “It’s the best plan we’ve got,” she said. “I’m more sure about this plan than the five of us trying to take down 6 hellhounds when I’m practically benched.” 

Dean didn’t like it, but it was the best plan they had. Ten minutes later, the bomb was ready. Dean, Sam, Ellen, and Jo stood behind Ember, who stood as far away from where the blast of the bomb would hit as she reasonably could, while still able to see the doors.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready,” everyone said.

Ember hit the button to trigger the blast, and the other four ran farther up the roof, shielding their faces. Once fully on the fire escape, Dean waited. One… two… three… four… finally, Ember came into sight, running as fast as her limp would carry her. She had a long gash down her face, was missing a shoe, and looked exhausted, but she was alive, and the bandage on her leg had held. Dean let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Did you get them all?” asked Sam.

“All except for two, and I killed them off afterward,” she said hoarsely. “Let’s go.”

Twenty minutes later, the group found Lucifer. He was digging a gigantic hole in the ground, and he was surrounded by demons.

“It’s just like in my premonition,” whispered Ember.

They were going up against Lucifer. This was insane. They had lost the angel up their sleeve, and Ember could barely walk and barely use her powers. 

“Last words?” Sam asked, echoing his sentiment.

Perhaps it was because he was thinking about Ember, or maybe it was because he’d just watched her get mauled by a hellhound, and still manage to take out nearly 30 of them. Whatever the reason, Dean whispered, “I love you” to Ember. 

She stood, stunned, for a second, then blurted out, “I love you too.”

“Okay,” Dean replied.

“Okay,” repeated Ember.

“Here goes nothing,” said Dean.

The group strode forward with their guns cocked. “Hey!” Sam yelled at Lucifer. “You wanted to see me?”

“Well, Sam, you don’t need that gun here,” Lucifer replied. He was tall, and his skin seemed to be peeling in places. Dean wondered what pour soul Lucifer had chosen as his vessel, and if that would happen to Sam if Lucifer took Sam as his vessel next.

“You know I’d never hurt you,” Lucifer said. “Not really.”

“Yeah?” Dean said. “Well I’d hurt you. So suck it.” And he shot Lucifer in the head, at point blank range, with the Colt.

Lucifer crumpled, and at first Dean felt elated. It was only a couple of seconds, however, before he realized something was wrong. None of the demons surrounding them had so much as blinked an eye. Worse, Lucifer had showed no signs of pain or death, like demons typically did when they were shot with the Colt. Like Azazel had. Dean looked around in fear.

Suddenly, Lucifer took a big breath. “Owwwww!” he said, getting up quickly. “Where did you get that?” And then Lucifer backhanded Dean. He could feel himself flying off the ground, hear Ember’s scream, and he knew no more.

When Dean woke again, he quickly scrambled to find Sam, ignoring the pain in his forehead. With a sigh of relief, he noted that Ember, Sam, Jo, and Ellen were all still close-by. Ember shot him a terrified look, and he could see why. She appeared to be using all of her power on Lucifer, but he barely even seemed to feel it.

“Repeat after me,” Lucifer was saying to the demons surrounding him. “We offer up our lives, blood, souls, to complete this tribute.”

The demons did, and one by one they fell – 20, 30, 40, 50 of them fell to the ground.

They had been men once.

“What?” Lucifer said, catching Sam’s frightened glare. “They’re just demons.”

Then the ground began to shake, and Lucifer looked away. Then, suddenly, miraculously, just when Dean thought all hope was lost, Castiel appeared in front of him. Castiel put his finger to his lips, reached out his hand, and suddenly all six of them disappeared, far away from Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spared Ellen and Jo... they were the trade I made for Bobby's legs, earlier. I won't use them a lot, but I'll pull them out once in awhile. I couldn't help it. They're both such great characters.
> 
> Also, just to make sure everything worked, I put together a sort of "power system" for all of the magic players involved in each episode, so that I could make sure I wasn't making Ember too powerful, and that I had the right number of Hellhounds. Just so you know, it works. In general,  
Hellhounds: 5  
Average Low-Level Demon: 10, with higher-level demons being 15 - 20  
Ember: 15 in the beginning, maxes out at 50 beginning in "I Believe the Children..."  
Castiel: 40  
Alastair: 45  
Sam on Demon Blood: 50 - 70, but only works on demons and only partially on Ember  
Lilith: 70  
Archangel: 80  
GOD: 100  
So anyway, I figure Ember can hit a couple of blasts of Hellhounds for 5 each and then be tapped out on power. I'm way OCD-ing about this, but I didn't want to make her all-powerful. (Not yet.)


	13. My Bloody Valentine

***Dean, POV***

Christmas

Christmas was a happy affair for Dean for what felt like the first time in a long time. Truthfully, he had had a decent Christmas the winter before he went to Hell, which, ironically, had been the first time since he was a child that he’d actually celebrated Christmas.

This year, for different reasons, everyone seemed to want to celebrate Christmas. Bobby wanted to celebrate it because it was the first Christmas he would be spending with his daughter. (Dean also thought that the possibility that Ember may not _actually_ be his daughter after all made him want to celebrate it with her even more, but he would never say this aloud, even to Ember.) Ember wanted to celebrate it to cheer up Bobby, and also because she “wanted Dean and Sam to have a good Christmas for once.” After Dean found out that this would include sex and money for the new car parts he had been wanting, he was more than on board with the idea. He even worked several hours for a friend of Bobby’s to make honest money to buy Ember a present. He would normally have hustled pool, but he knew she would never accept anything frivolous from him that he hadn’t bought with honest money. Dean was right, too. He bought her a small heart necklace made of real emeralds, and she was pleased. Seeing it around her neck was worth the heckling from Sam (and even a few comments from Bobby) that he had to endure for nearly a week afterward.

Ember, Sam, and Dean continued hunting, but there was no word on Lucifer. The three knew that he was out there somewhere, however, if for no other reason than Ember’s life continued to be demon-free. Aside from when Bobby got stabbed, when they had fought the demons in front of Jesse, and their most recent interaction with Lucifer, no demon had dared get close to Ember.

Ember’s powers finally seemed to have leveled off, too. Castiel visited once in awhile, and this was always a good opportunity to gauge how strong she had become, as he was the only worthy opponent available. She seemed to have the ability to kill and exorcise multiple demons, as well as the abilities of levitation, flying short distances, invisibility, and premonition. Castiel was certain that her premonition was limited to relating to Lucifer, however.

And so the new year started quietly.

***Dean POV***

January 26th

Near the middle of January, Bobby received a call from an old hunter friend named Martin that there was some sort of monster in the mental hospital in Ketchum, Oklahoma. Within a week, Ember had managed to set herself up as a therapist there, and Dean and Sam had managed to enter as patients. It was a standard adventure – a milk run, really, compared to their interactions with Lucifer, but Dean was glad to leave – he was beginning to think that the therapy provided there was really starting to get to Sam.

Apparently he had been right – to his horror, right after they escaped the ward, Sam seemed to decide that it was sharing and caring time. “Most of the time I can hide it,” Sam told him and Ember. But they were right. I _am_ angry.” _Son of a bitch_, Dean thought. God he needed a drink. “I’m mad at everything!” Sam continued. “I used to be mad at you and Dad, then Lilith, now it’s Lucifer. And I make excuses. I blame Ruby, or the demon blood. But it’s not their fault. It’s not _them_, it’s _me. _It’s inside _me. _I’m mad _all the time._ And I don’t know _why.”_

Dean looked at his brother, then looked at Ember. He realized Ember was looking at him. She was a therapist. Wasn’t she supposed to deal with this feelings crap? Dean usually wasn’t _quite_ so irritable, but he was still wearing the blue scrubs from the ward, and he’d been in there for a week, and he wanted a cheeseburger. “Okay, stop. Stop it. So what if you are? What are you gonna do? Take a leave of absence? You gonna say yes to Lucifer? What?”

“No, of course not, I-…”

“Exactly,” Dean said. “You’re gonna take all that crap, and you’re gonna bury it. You’re gonna forget about it, because that’s how we keep going.”

“_No,” _said Ember’s voice at his side, “That’s how _you_ keep going. And do you know what? Maybe that’s the problem.”

“What?” said Dean, confused.

“Did you _seriously _just give him the advice to _bury it_? _God, _you two are emotionally _retarded_! He buries his anger in demon blood, and when he can’t do that, he lets it out. _You,_ you bury your anger in alcohol and sex and more alcohol!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean said. Ember had told him to stop drinking once in awhile, and he knew that she disapproved of how much he drank, but she’d never really put her foot down on the subject.

“Do you know why I’m not flying around smiting people right now?” Ember asked. “It’s not because I’ve been careful about how much of my power I use… Cas is right. It’s because I don’t give into my anger. I do the _Therapist_ thing, and I find _healthy _ways to release my anger, and I work out, and I kill things that shouldn’t exist, and I have a horribly unhealthy addiction to ice cream! But I _don’t _take it out on the people around me, I _don’t _keep secrets about what makes me angry from the people who love me – and I’m looking at _both _of you on that one - and I _don’t _drown my anger in alcohol! And I _sure as hell don’t bury it!_ You two are supposed to be god damn vessels, for Christ sake. Do you know how easy it is for the angels and the demons and every other damn thing we fight to use your anger as ammunition against you? Dean, you ought to know this, better than anyone. _Don’t_ tell me you’re going to _bury it_, or the angels and the demons have already won!” With that, Ember slid into the passenger side of the Impala and turned “Burnin’ For You” by Blue Oyster Cult up to full blast, signaling the end of the conversation.

Dean shrugged at Sam and said, “She’s hot when she’s angry.” But the truth was that it was in that moment that Dean realized, for sure, that he loved her. (And, begrudgingly, he vowed to keep his alcohol intake down to a few drinks in the evening.)

***Ember POV***

January 28th, Day

At the end of January, Ember and the two brothers found themselves in Housatonic, Massachusetts. Sam and Dean’s old babysitter, Donna, appeared to be having a poltergeist problem, and (as usual) the brothers had arrived to help. After speaking with Donna, the brothers and Ember stopped in a small burger joint for lunch.

“You know, poltergeist aside, Donna looked pretty good, don’t you think?” asked Dean.

Ember rolled her eyes. “I’m right here, ya gratuitous flirt,” she said.

“Dude,” Sam said, “Don’t tell me you’ve still got the hots for our babysitter.”

“What? No!” Dean said, unconvincingly. “I’m just saying, you know, she’s… she’s doing good. You know, with her husband, and her kid. This whole Amityville thing being thrown at them, and they’re still hanging tough.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.

Dean snuck a look at Ember before asking both of them, “You ever think you’d want something like that? Wife, rugrats, the whole nine?”

Sam shook his head. “No. Not really my thing anymore.”

Dean looked at Ember for her answer, and she understood: the question had been brought up in a group situation, but her answer would mean more to him than that. They had been together too long for him to be saying things about family and commitment just to get in her pants, and they were honestly at about the right point in their relationship to be slowly answering these questions. It had been a smooth question, on his part, and she recognized that.

“Maybe after the Apocalypse is over,” she said. “I don’t want to have my _own_ kids, but… I’ve always wanted to settle down, you know that. I guess I always figured… maybe someday I’d find a kid who’d had to face down demons before, you know, an orphan, and sort of… acquire them.”

“Huh,” Dean said, and he appeared to think about this for a minute. It occurred to Ember that Dean had been smoother than she’d thought. He’d created a way for her to answer the question, and him to be able to change the subject before she could suss out his answer in a way that didn’t leave her vulnerable for asking. And that was exactly what he did.

For the next couple of hours, Ember wondered if she had interpreted this conversation correctly. She thought she might have stepped over a line when she’d said her piece about Dean burying his anger the other day, but surprisingly he seemed to have taken her words to heart. He hadn’t said anything, but he did seem to be limiting his drinking more than she had seen him do previously. It was a good thing, too – if his drinking had gotten any worse, his liver would last even shorter than a hunter’s life already guaranteed him. And that was just sad.

Ironically, however, the conversation in the burger joint wasn’t the only conversation that weekend about what Dean had always referred to as “an apple pie life.” The poltergeist itself had been easy enough to take care of, but the three had also had to deal with three high school friends who had been practicing witchcraft. One of them even managed to switch bodies with Sam, but Ember saw him immediately for who he really was before any harm could be done. Still, Sam was shaken by the short time he did spend in the home (and body) of a teenager. “All that apple pie family crap? It’s stressful,” he told Dean and Ember on their way out of town. “I don’t think we missed a damn thing.”

“Or we don’t know what we’re missing,” Dean said, and for just a moment, he caught Ember’s eye in the rearview mirror.

***Dean POV***

February 14, Evening

Dean wasn’t the type to be romantic, typically, but he really liked Ember. They had been dating for almost a year, and Dean knew it was well past the time when “I love you’s” were normally issued. They hadn’t said the three words since they’d thought they were going to die during their encounter with Lucifer, and Dean knew they really needed to be said. 

Still, Dean had strongly considered never saying “I love you”, if for no other reason than it wasn’t his style, and also because Sam and Bobby would never let him hear the end of it. He knew Ember wouldn’t fault him for it, either. He knew that she knew he loved her, even though he didn’t say it. And, to top off the argument, Dean telling Ember “I love you” would be a vocalization of feelings that he felt might set a precedent in the wrong direction. He _showed_ her he loved her, on a constant basis. He got her her favorite foods, he never expected anything of her, he’d gotten her that necklace for Christmas, and he’d even stopped drinking for her (sort of, mostly). He shouldn’t have to _tell _her he loved her.

Just when he’d made up his mind that the “I love you” conversation could wait, Sam took the situation out of his hands. “So, you and Ember,” he said. “What’s up with that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, I just thought you might be…” Sam trailed off, as though Dean was supposed to know what he was thinking.

“What?” asked Dean.

“Well, getting… I don’t know, bored.”

“_What?” _Dean asked sharply. 

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, you’ve been dating almost a year, and… You haven’t even told her you love her yet, man. Being in a relationship of convenience isn’t doing either of you any favors. If you want to kick her off the hunt, she’ll be safe at Bobby’s. You know that, right?”

“It’s _not _a relationship of convenience!” Dean told his brother defensively.

Sam stared at him, as if searching him for lies. “Okay, man. I just…”

“_What?”_ Dean asked again, because Sam had trailed off again.

“Well, I know it’s not like you to _ever_ put a ring on it, but tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. You’ve gotta have _something _planned.”

Shit. Was tomorrow really Valentine’s Day? And worse, did Ember really think that way? Was she frustrated with his lack of commitment?

Because of his discussion with Sam, Dean actually put some effort into planning the whole “Valentine’s Day” thing over the following 24 hours. He knew she liked cheeseburgers better than what most girls liked to eat on Valentine’s Day (this was part of the reason he loved her), so he found the classiest cheeseburger joint in the town where they were working their current case. He even found a nice place where they could go dancing, something he knew Ember wanted, though he didn’t dance as a rule.

Dean had actually worked himself into an excitement on the morning of Valentine’s Day, but by evening he couldn’t have been less in the mood. It was strange, actually – he wasn’t in the mood for _anything._ He didn’t attempt to grope Ember like he normally would have when she showed up in a new and very revealing dress. (He suspected she’d stolen it, which normally would have made it even sexier.) He didn’t even enjoy his cheeseburger at the restaurant, which he normally would’ve thought was phenomenal.

Ember didn’t seem to be enjoying herself either, Dean thought. Twice, he saw her hand twitch, like it often did when she was bringing it up to use her full power. When he asked her what was wrong, however, she simply said, “I’m really sorry, Dean. I guess it’s just been awhile since I’ve had a night out, and I’m a little on edge. I’ll try to relax.”

Between his own uninterested mood and Ember’s distracted one, however, Dean was almost glad when Sam called to update him on the case they were working on. “Dean, you’re going to want to see this,” he said. “I know it’s Valentine’s Day, but I wanted to let you know because you’re a couple, on a date, just like all the victims. On all four of the hearts of the victims is a letter, like the ones carved into our ribs. I think it’s Enochian.”

“Enochian? Are you sure?” Dean asked. “We’re on our way.”

February 15, Evening

The Enochian letters, as it turned out, was a red herring, a false lead. The cupid who was hooking up the couples with the Enochian letters on their hearts was doing so innocently, according to Castiel, who read his mind. So, they were back to square one.

To make matters worse, Dean and Ember had never bothered to have Valentine’s Day sex, nor had Dean bothered to tell her he loved her. Dean hadn’t been in the mood for sex after the cupid fiasco, and so he’d asked Ember if she wanted to take a rain check. She had readily agreed. Dean wondered if perhaps their initial “flame” as a couple was slowing to a dull fizzle, but this didn’t make any sense, either. Just three days ago, when Dean had come back from being sent back in time by angels _again_, they’d had sex randomly in a hotel bathroom while Sam was out on a food run. Afterwards, the neighbors on the other side of the wall had apparently complained to the establishment because they’d been so loud. Two days before that, she’d given him road head while she had been invisible, with Sam asleep in the back seat. Ever since they’d been on the case with the cupid, however, Ember had seemed distracted, and Dean had simply felt numb to everything.

As the day after Valentine’s Day wore on, Ember acted more and more strangely. When she wasn’t paying attention, her hand would begin to twitch like it did when she was using her powers, and she would gaze off into space. “What’s going on with you?” Dean asked her late in the afternoon.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s weird. Ever since we’ve hit this town, I’ve just been… hormonal or something. It’s like my demon side is… more potent somehow. I just want to wrap up this case so we can leave.”

At that point, Sam staggered in with a suitcase. Sam had been gone all day as well, Dean noted. He had left early that morning to look at the body of a man that had killed himself by eating too many Twinkies, but it must’ve been hours since Sam had left the coroner’s.

“What the hell took so long?” Dean asked.

“Ran into a demon,” Sam said. He looked a bit drunk, Dean thought. “He got away from me. But I stole his suitcase.”

Ember frowned. Dean saw, again, her hand twitch, as though it wanted to fly upward and push something against the wall, but she would not allow it.

“What the hell has a demon got to do with this, anyway?” Dean asked.

“Believe me,” Sam sighed, “I’ve got no idea.”

Dean looked closer at Sam. He was sweating, and looked paler than usual. “You okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Sam answered. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

“Let’s crack her open,” Dean said. “What’s the worst that could happen, right?”

The suitcase, when opened, emitted a bright white light, unlike anything Sam or Dean had ever seen before.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, alarmed.

“It’s a human soul,” said Castiel, who had appeared suddenly on the bed. He was eating a cheeseburger again, which appeared to be his habit as of late. “It’s starting to make sense,” Castiel continued, taking a large bite.

“Now what about that makes sense?” Sam said.

“And when did you start eating?” asked Dean. He realized with alarm that Ember was looking at Castiel with an angry look on her face.

“Exactly,” said Castiel. “My hunger – it’s a clue, actually.”

“For what?” the brothers asked at once. Ember said nothing, but simply stared at Castiel with a glare. What was _wrong_ with her?

“This town isn’t suffering from some love-gone-wrong effect,” Castiel said. “It’s suffering from hunger. Starvation, to be exact. Specifically, Famine.”

Ember let out a long breath, and Sam said, “Famine? As in… the Horseman?”

“Great,” said Dean. “That’s freaking great.”

“I thought famine meant starvation. Like, as in, you know, food,” Sam said.

“Yes,” said Castiel, “Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something – sex, attention, drugs, love.”

“Well, that explains the puppy lovers that cupid shot up,” Dean said.

“Right,” said Castiel. “The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came, and made them _rabid_ for it.”

“Okay, but what about you?” Dean asked. “I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?”

“It’s my vessel – Jimmy,” Castiel said. “His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine’s effect.”

“So Famine just rolls into town, and everybody goes crazy?” Dean asked.

“And then will come Famine riding on a black steed,” Castiel quoted. “He will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the Horseman’s hunger, because he _is_ hunger.”

“So what, this whole town is just going to eat, drink, and screw itself to death?” Sam asked from inside the bathroom.

“We should stop it,” said Castiel, who was working on another burger.

Suddenly, Dean heard the door shut with a slam. “Ember?” he asked, but there was no reply.

“Ember!” he said, leaping up and grabbing the keys to the Impala, which she hadn’t taken. She had been acting so weirdly today, and he didn’t want her running around outside until they decided what to do about Famine.

“Let her go, Dean,” Castiel said, and Dean stopped.

“What the hell, Cas?” Dean said to his friend.

“Dean,” said Sam, who was sitting down on the bed, looking tired and sweating more than usual. “I love Ember, I do, but… she’s half-demon. What do you think _she_ hungers for?”

Sam was right, Dean realized. It all made sense, now: the glare that had colored Ember’s face all day, and the way her hand kept twitching. Still, he leapt up. “All the more reason!” he insisted. “We’ve got to go get her, tie her up-…”

“With what?” Castiel asked, materializing in front of the door. “There are no chains or bars that can hold her. She may be nearly as powerful as Famine himself.”

“Okay,,, so, Cas, you can go find her, and beam her outta here,” Dean said to his friend. “You gotta beam her to, like, Montana. Anywhere but here.”

“Even if I could, it won’t work,” Castiel said. “She’s already infected. The hunger is just going to travel with her. And she barely got out of here without killing as it was. Didn’t you see the look she was giving us?”

“So what, I’m just supposed to let her go?” Dean asked accusatorily.

“Stopping Famine will stop Ember’s symptoms,” Castiel said. “And the faster we do it, the less people will die in the meantime.”

Dean was furious. He hated this. This was why he didn’t get into relationships, especially relationships with half-demons. He was ashamed to think that way, because he knew Ember would be mortified if she knew, but he had to face the facts: his girlfriend was probably out killing people. He didn’t want to think that if they couldn’t stop Famine, it would be his job to kill her. He didn’t want to think about that. He would stop Famine, and save her, for once, from herself. She was always saving them. 

“That’s a great idea,” said Dean. “How?”

“How did you stop the last Horseman you met?” Castiel asked, still chewing.

“War got his mojo from this ring,” Dean answered, grabbing it out of his jacket pocket. “And after we cut it off, he just tucked tail and ran. And everybody that was affected, it was like they woke up out of a dream. You think Famine’s got a class ring too?”

“I _know_ he does,” Castiel answered, taking another bite of his burger.

“Well, okay,” said Dean, growing impatient with his friend. “Let’s track him down and get to chopping. I want Ember back before she goes apeshit.”

“Yeah,” Castiel said, looking at his empty take-out bag with disappointment and not moving.

Dean let out an impatient sigh. “Come on!” he said, looking toward the bathroom, where Sam had disappeared. “Come on Sam, what’s taking so long? I’m going to leave without you!” He looked back at Castiel. “What are you, the hamburglar?”

“I’ve developed a taste for ground beef,” said Castiel matter-of-factly.

“What, have you even tried to stop it?” Dean asked him. He yelled backward, “Sam! Let’s _go!_ What the hell are you doing in there?”

“I’m an angel,” Castiel replied. “I can stop anytime I want.”

“Dean,” came Sam’s muffled voice from inside the bathroom. “I um… I can’t go.”

“What do you mean?” Dean said, agitated now. What the hell was everyone playing at? 

“I think it got to me, Dean,” Sam said. “I think I’m hungry for it.”

Dean’s heart took a further nosedive. Ember _and_ Sam?!?! “Hungry for what?” Dean snapped, though he already knew.

“You know,” said Sam, who had the decency to look ashamed. 

“Demon blood? You gotta be kidding me,” Dean said angrily. “You _and _Ember? What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“You go cut that bastard’s finger off,” Sam said, panting. “But Dean… before you go, you better lock me down.”

***Sam POV***

February 15, Late Night

It broke Sam’s heart to know that he had disappointed his brother, again, after all this. Dean was out going after Famine with Castiel, and he was stuck here, chained to a sink. It was almost too easy when the demons found him, to drain one, and then the other. Far, far too easy.

And just when his hunger had ceased for a split second, before another wave hit, a new smell hit him – demon, but not really.

It was Ember, and her eyes were black. He knew, intellectually, that this wasn’t good. Most demons have black eyes, which they hide with the eyes of their vessel; Ember was the opposite. Over a year ago, when Sam had first spoken to her about being half-demon (back before Anna, when she and Dean were flirting constantly), she had told him that her eyes could go black, but not for more than a second unless she was doing something that required “dark side” powers. As in, her eyes only remained black when she was using her powers to their extent, and doing something that she really wasn’t supposed to be doing. It also occurred to him that if he wasn’t so hungry for demon blood, he might be terrified right now. But her blood wasn’t demon blood, not pure, anyway. She was still too human.

“They got to you before I could get to them, I see,” she said in an icy voice.

“What?” said Sam, confused.

“Let’s go,” Ember said. She didn’t wait for him to get up on his own, but prodded him up with her powers. Similarly, in the parking lot, she laid her hand on a nearby Corvette, which immediately began to purr, and jumped inside, forcing Sam to follow. She then sped down the road in the Corvette at top speed. When other drivers passed them on the road, Ember used her powers to push their cars out of the way and sped past them.

It occurred to Sam through his haze of hunger that something was strange here, and he ought to focus.

“Where are we going?”

“To find more demons, obviously,” Ember said, with a maniacal glint in her black eye. “Can’t you smell them?”

That sounded good. Demons were good. He wanted their blood. But there was something else odd about this conversation…

“Where did you go?” he asked her, finally latching onto a question he had had earlier, when things like that seemed to matter.

“To kill demons,” she said, speeding even faster with the car. 

Demons? Castiel had thought she would kill _them_…

“Why… did you come back to me?” he asked slowly.

She smirked, her grin becoming increasingly wide and maniacal. “Supply dried up. Needed more.”

“And… where we’re going now… there are more demons?” Sam asked.

“I can feel them,” she answered, grinning toothily. “And Famine. He’s there too.” She cackled maniacally again. “Guess his power is working against him. I’m hungry to kill him, too.” Ember appeared to shake her head for just a second, and for just a few seconds her maniacal grin subsided somewhat. “When you go in, you need to get Cas out. Then you can drink them, if you want, if I don’t kill them first. I don’t care what you do. But you need to go in first. Get Cas out. Promise me. Promise me you’ll get Cas out.”

Sam could tell that, like him, she was struggling to focus through a haze. It made him redouble his efforts. “Get Cas out… why?”

“I’ll kill him,” Ember said, shaking her head again and pushing a car out of the way far more roughly than she needed to. The car spun out into the extra lane, the front headlight shattering, but Ember paid it no mind. “Demons, and angels, and Horseman. I hate them. I hate them all. You’ll have maybe a minute, that’s as long as I can give you. Get Cas out.”

***Dean POV***

February 15, Late Night

Dean had wondered, of course, why Famine had affected Sam and Ember but not him. Famine, as it turned out, had a theory. “That’s one deep, dark nothing you’ve got there, Dean. Can’t fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex. You can smirk, and joke, and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean!”

And somewhere deep down, Dean knew it was true. “I can see how broken you are, how defeated,” Famine continued. “You can’t win, and you know it, but you just keep fighting, just keep going through the motions. You’re not hungry, Dean, because inside, you’re already dead.”

Dean sighed. Famine was right. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t defeat Famine. He never should’ve come on his own.

Then he saw a blinding flash of light, and realized that Castiel had been banished. _No!_ he thought. _Cas!_ But then he heard Sam’s voice. “Let him go.”

With a horrible realization, Dean saw the blood around Sam’s mouth, and realized he’d given in to his hunger for demon blood. “Sammy, no!” he yelled.

Two demons walked toward Sam, but Famine yelled, “Stop! No one lays a finger on this sweet little boy.”

Both of the demons stopped in their tracks. Famine continued. “Sam, I see you got the snack I sent you.”

“_You _sent?” Sam asked, and Dean realized that Famine must have sent demons back to the motel room for Sam to drink.

“Don’t worry,” Famine said. “You’re not like everyone else. You’ll never die from drinking too much. You’re the exception that proves the rule, just the way Satan wanted you to be.” Dean saw Sam’s face flicker in disgust, and for a second, he thought he saw Sam’s confidence falter.

“So…” Famine said in his slow voice, “Cut their throats!” He gestured to the demons around him. “Have at them!”

“Sammy, no!” screamed Dean.

“Please!” said Famine. “Be my guest.”

Sam was taking labored breaths now, and though it seemed to cost him everything he had, he refused the offer. Instead, he raised his hands, and began exorcising all five demons at once. Dean could see that it was costing him everything he had. How many demons had he drained? Dean wondered. At least one. Maybe two? Still, his nose was bleeding, but soon all five humans, now demon-free, had dropped to the ground.

“No,” Sam said firmly to Famine.

“Well…” said Famine. “If you don’t want them, then I’ll have them.” And then the old man collected all five demons from the underworld, opening his mouth wide as though breathing them all in. Dean and Sam made eye contact, both of them horrified.

Then Sam stuck out his hand again, and Dean knew he was going to attempt to kill the Horseman, too.

“I’m a Horseman, Sam,” Famine said. “Your power doesn’t work on me.”

Then, a voice which sent chills down Dean’s spine said, “But I’m hungry too.”

Ember had come out of nowhere, Dean thought. Her eyes were a terrifying black. “Sam, watch out!” yelled Dean, but he quickly realized that Ember was not after Sam. She, too, had her hand out (the one that had been twitching for the past few days), and both she and Sam were summoning all of the demons from inside Famine. Dean could see that Ember was twisting and turning the demons with her hand as well. She had a maniacal look on her face that he knew he would never forget.

And then Famine was no more.

Slowly, Ember’s eyes went back to normal. Her face seemed to fall, and she fell to her knees, crying. He ran to her and caught her deftly, holding her to him. Tears swam in her eyes. “I thought…” Dean told her. “But your hunger…”

“Demons,” she said, her voice muffled in his shirt as she hiccupped to catch her breath. “And angels, apparently. I left so… so I wouldn’t kill Cas. Demons… when I was younger, I was so angry, and so now… I couldn’t control it. I killed them all…” 

Ember raised her head then, and it was only when Ember spoke that Dean realized that Cas had joined them again. “I’m so sorry, Cas. That’s why I left. I couldn’t be around you. It’s not you, it’s angels in general. And I don’t feel it now, and I don’t want to kill you, I promise, but…”

“There’s no need,” said Cas, nodding stiffly at Ember. “Famine brought out the hunger in all of us.” He nodded at Dean, and Dean realized that Cas was (as usual) not stopping to heed the emotions of everyone involved, but instead was moving on to business. “I’ll take Sam back to Bobby’s panic room to detox. I wasn’t very helpful. It’s the least I can do.”

Dean nodded at Sam, who looked resigned but determined. He then nodded at Cas, who left with Sam without a word.

Dean and Ember were alone, suddenly, and Dean’s head was swimming with the image of Ember, standing regal and terrifying a few moments ago, black eyes blazing like coals. It stood out in sharp contrast with the Ember of the moment, who was crying into his lapels. He held her tightly and strong-armed her into the Impala, which was outside. 

“What do you mean, you killed them all?” he asked her.

“I… it was like being in a haze,” she confessed, still swallowing tears. “I left because Cas… I was so angry. But I knew he… _he _didn’t deserve it. So I left, and I got to a big field… and then I used all my demon powers that I have, and they were attracted to it, and they all came... They sort of straggled in, and I could feel the demon side take over, and I killed them, one by one. There must’ve been…” Ember gulped. “Maybe 100, overall.” Ember was calmer, now, though she was still crying. “And I was in the air, and they were all around me, and a few touched down to humans, and I don’t know how many humans I killed in the process…” She was still crying.

“You… a _hundred?!”_ Dean was startled. He didn’t know what to say.

“I… I don’t know,” Ember said, and dissolved into tears again.

Dean held her close the rest of the way to the hotel. His heart ached for her. After how worried he had been that she would kill everyone in town, how upset and scared he had been when she had left, her hunger had been for _killing_ demons and angels. He would marry this woman, he knew that now. He loved her, and that was that. Now that Famine was gone, Dean’s heart was suddenly so full of love that he could no longer hold in the words. “I love you, Ember,” he told her softly. “I love you so much.”

She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. “I love you too, Dean,” she told him.

***Dean POV***

February 16, Very Early Morning

Dean woke from a deep sleep to find Castiel at the foot of his bed. “Cas!” he said in a hissed whisper, because Ember was still asleep next to him. She did not wake.

Castiel pointed at Ember and put his fingers to his lips, and gestured for Dean to follow him. When Dean stood up and came close to Castiel, Castiel put his fingers on Dean’s forehead, and suddenly he was in a completely different place.

Dean was met by a sight that would have been gruesome, if it hadn’t been so awe-inspiring. He was on the edge of a small clearing. Strewn across the field were bodies – 13 total, he counted, though a couple of them were in pieces. And everywhere – absolutely _everywhere_ – there was sulfur. There was sulfur on the trees, sulfur on the ground, sulfur covering all of the leaves. Dean stopped short of where the sulfur began, but he guessed it would have gone nearly to his waist at its deepest point, near the middle of the clearing.

“I wanted you to see it,” Castiel said, “before I cleared it up. Your girlfriend has secured her place in Heaven. So long as she does not stray from the path she is on, the angels will honor her among us. But… that does not mean she has not also gone farther on the path of darkness.”

“What does that mean?” Dean asked.

“Killing demons, in any capacity, is considered an act of Heaven,” Castiel said. “But an infection by Famine, particularly one that causes a killing spree – not to mention the killing of human hosts - will tempt her dark side.”

“Will she be okay?” Dean asked Castiel, concerned.

“There is no evidence to the contrary at the moment,” Castiel said. “The angels are impressed with her, at least.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a good thing.”

“No,” said Castiel. “I’m pretty sure that Lucifer and the demons will decide, in the wake of this tragedy, that they won’t be able to use her in the way that they thought that they would,” he said. “Before they wanted her left alive, to use if they could convert her. Now it seems she falls in league with you, that they want her dead as soon as possible.”

“Always what I love to hear,” Dean said sarcastically. He was still awed by the sight of the field full of sulfer. He wasn’t sure what to think. To be honest, he himself was torn between worry for his girlfriend and sheer awe at her power and what she had achieved. “Why… why didn’t you bring her?” he asked Castiel.

Castiel cocked his head, clearly confused. “She doesn’t like the dead bodies,” he reminded Dean. “She scares me when she cries.”

Castiel had a point, Dean thought – Ember would not have liked knowing that 13 humans were killed. She didn’t care about her permanent place in Heaven as much as she did about whether or not she was tempted by the dark side.

“How many demons did she kill last night?” Dean asked Castiel.

Castiel shook his head. “Somewhere upwards of 100, I’d say,” he said, and Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Last night her power must’ve reached….” Castiel blew out a breath. “Every demon in the Midwest, perhaps.”

“_Every demon in the Midwest?” _Dean said, shocked.

Castiel shrugged. “Only the low-level ones that could be easily attracted. That’s why she didn’t kill any angels. We don’t come simply because a half-demon calls.”

“Don’t call her that!” Dean told Castiel sharply.

“I apologize,” said Castiel matter-of-factly. “I did not mean it as an insult. Like I said, she has earned her place with us in Heaven.”

“I’ll let her know that,” Dean said sarcastically. “You’re right, she’ll be really upset about the 13 humans she killed, and how close she got to going ‘dark side.’” Still, he thought, quirking a proud smile, _his_ girlfriend had killed over 100 demons in one night. Particularly with the apocalypse coming, he wasn’t letting this woman go _any_ time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This is one of the chapters that took shape at the very beginning of this story, and one that I am the most proud of, along with probably On the Head of a Pin. I hope you like it. Reviews are needed. Do I have to beg?


	14. 99 Problems

***Ember POV***

April 8, Late Night

After vanquishing Famine, Ember spent two weeks at Bobby’s. Dean and Sam spent the first week there with her, while Sam detoxed from the demon blood. Both of them left for another hunt at the beginning of the second week, however Ember insisted she was not yet ready to join them. She would later be ashamed to explain to Dean that she spent that second week binging on Netflix and wishing she were out hunting with the brothers. Still, she felt that she needed some down time. It was a sort of self-imposed jail-and-relaxation sentence.

Dean had told her that he had gone with Castiel to see the wreckage she had caused. She knew she had killed 13 people, but no one but Ember seemed to care too much about this in comparison to the hundreds of demons she had apparently offed. This was the down side, Ember thought, of dating a hunter. Hunters were trained to think of the “greater good”, to think in strategic moves of logic, rather than emotions. She knew that dating anyone for a year (much less a half-demon) was already extremely far out of Dean’s comfort zone, so she tried not to weigh him down with how upset she was about the 13 people. Bobby and Sam were similarly unhelpful, so Ember spent long hours on the phone with her mother.

Finally, in March, Ember returned to hunting. She and Dean immediately resumed their previous habits, including sex as often and as creatively as humanly possible. 

For some time, there was no news on the apocalypse front. In early April, however, Dean and Sam managed to learn from the angel Joshua that God would not be helping them in their struggle, which was a sizeable blow to their small band of hunters, or “Team Free Will” as Dean had taken to calling them. After this, Dean brooded and became even more surly, and Ember noticed that he had once again increased his intake of alcohol.

Finally, on April 8, the demons struck back. There must’ve been nearly 50 them, and these were not the low-level demons she’d attracted to the field when she’d been infected by Famine. “But you’ve taken on that many before!” protested Sam when Ember screamed at the boys to drive away faster. He must’ve killed upwards of 10 of the hosts with his shotgun, but he was all out of ammo, and he’d been sliced in the arm earlier on his way to the Impala.

“Not at once, and only by tapping into my demonic side!” she yelled, pushing backward at the demons with all her might, and killing wave after wave of them. By this point, Dean had been driving away from them as they continued to give chase for nearly half an hour. “Back with Famine, they all sort of… straggled in! Plus I was…” She trailed off, but she knew the other two knew what she meant. “Not in my right mind?” “Demonic with hunger?”

Ember knocked out wave upon wave of demons, but they still kept coming. Her nose was bleeding, her head was screaming, and she knew she couldn’t go on much longer. Demons were much easier to kill when she was half-crazed with hunger to kill them, when she was fully employing her demon side, and when she was faced with a few demons at a time swirling through the air rather than demons who had already inhabited hosts and amassed an ambush. This was much more difficult, and she was exhausted with the effort of keeping it up. Still, she wouldn’t kill another host – not after Famine. Sam and Dean could kill as many hosts as they wanted – they didn’t have the constant threat of a demon side threatening to overtake them.

Ember felt near to passing out when Dean suddenly stopped the car, and Ember heard a voice over her head. The voice was chanting words Ember didn’t recognize, but it sounded like Enochian. She could see flashing lights, hear the sounds of screaming, and see black demons traveling through the air, away from exorcised hosts. _Someone has come to the rescue. It’ll be okay._ And Ember knew no more.

***Ember POV***

April 9, Afternoon

Ember was highly uncomfortable with this entire situation. As it turned out, they had apparently been rescued by a town that was well-versed in demon hunting and killing. The pastor’s daughter, Leah, was a prophet, and was able to tell the townspeople where and when demons would be coming. Ember immediately felt uneasy about everything going on in the town, especially Leah. Her first impression of Leah was of a self-righteous preppy girl Ember had known in high school. Ember had disliked Anna, but even Anna didn’t make her skin crawl quite the way Leah did. Still, Leah seemed nice enough. She already knew about Sam, Dean, and Ember, and welcomed them excitedly to the town. Therefore, despite her misgivings, Ember attempted to prolong judgment of Leah for the time being.

That afternoon, Leah had another vision of demons on the outside of town. Reluctantly, Ember set off with the brothers and a group of townspeople to hunt and kill some of the demon stragglers from the previous night. Ember’s head hadn’t fully recovered from the exhaustion of the previous night, but even so the townspeople won the fight by a landslide – there weren’t many demons left. Unfortunately, one of the demons hid and managed to kill Dylan, one of the younger men in the town, while he was having a celebratory beer with Sam and Dean. At this, Ember’s uneasy feeling increased.

Ember could tell by Dean’s face at the funeral that he blamed himself for the young man’s death. It didn’t help that the boys’ mother, Jane, blamed Dean as well. “Why don’t we get the hell out of here?” Ember whispered to Dean as everyone gathered for the funeral. “This town can take care of itself. What are we still doing here?”

Dean nodded, and said stonily, “Fine. After the funeral, we’ll leave.”

In the middle of the funeral, however, Leah had yet another vision. “You’ll see Dylan again,” she told the congregation. “When the final day comes, Judgment Day, he’ll be resurrected, and you’ll be together again. We’ll _all_ be together again, with all our loved ones. We’ve been chosen. The angels have chosen us. And we will be given paradise on Earth. All we have to do is follow the angels’ commandments.” Ember looked at Dean to see if he shared her skepticism, but he was listening raptly.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“No drinking, no gambling, no premarital sex?” Sam commented after Leah’s explanation of her vision at the funeral service. “Dean, they basically just outlawed 90% of your personality.”

“Well, whatever,” Dean said. “When in Rome.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Ember asked. “You realize that means we can’t have sex until we leave town, right? All the more reason to do so.”

“I don’t know, maybe they know something here that we don’t,” Dean said.

Both Sam and Ember looked at Dean in shock. “So… uh… you’re cool with it?” Sam asked.

“I’m not cool,” Dean said. “I’m not _not_ cool. Look, man, I’m not a prophet. We’re not locals. It’s not my call.” Ember caught Sam’s eye, and noted that he looked as surprised as she felt. “Look, I’ll catch up with you,” Dean said, and made a hasty exit.

Sam looked at Ember with his eyebrows raised. “Does any of this seem weird to you?” he asked.

“_Áll_ of this seems weird to me,” said Ember. “I’ve never heard any angels, or Chuck, say anything about outlawing drinking, gambling, or premarital sex.”

“I guess that means we’re not leaving town then?”

“I guess so,” Ember replied, resigned.

***Dean POV***

April 9, Night

Dean spent much of the afternoon lounging on the motel bed, thinking. Recently, through a long and elaborate turn of events, he had found out for certain from the angel Joshua that God didn’t really care about the apocalypse. This had been his last hope, he was ashamed to admit. For all his talk about “Team Free Will”, he honestly didn’t see what the four of them (Sam, Ember, Castiel, and himself) could do to save the Earth from a prize fight between Heaven and Hell. He was becoming increasingly convinced that he was simply putting off the inevitable.

What would become of Ember, and Sam, if the apocalypse continued in this direction? He realized that he had been relying on Ember’s powers for some time now, far more than he should have. He had been terrified when she had passed out after fighting the demons the previous night. And if demons were coming in armies of 50 or more, they were clearly becoming wise to her powers. Also, Lucifer clearly no longer had “important plans” that were worth keeping Ember alive. Castiel was right, Dean thought. Lucifer hadn’t expected Ember to “hunger” for killing demons. They had been lucky last night – they wouldn’t always have a town with a prophet to save them at the last possible second.

When was the Apocalypse going to end? Dean went through several possible courses of action, but they all ended in death, particularly for the people he cared about. There was only one course of action he could see that would guarantee their safety. He could make a deal with Michael, for the safety of Sam, Ember, and Bobby. Maybe he could even barter some legs back for his surrogate father in the process. And maybe – just maybe – he could survive the Apocalypse, and come back to them in the end. “_Unlike my brothers, I won’t leave you a drooling mess when I’m done wearing you.”_ It was the only way he could see that the three of them, particularly Sam and Ember, could ever truly be safe.

He had almost made up his mind to pray to Michael when Sam and Ember came through the door. “Where have you been?” Dean asked.

“Drinkin’,” Sam said casually.

“You rebel,” said Dean sarcastically.

“I’d’ve had more, but it was curfew,” Sam said.

“Right,” Dean said, noncommittally. His mind was still on other things.

“Did you hear they shut down the cell towers?” Sam asked, and Dean forced himself to focus.

“That’s news to me,” he said.

“No cable, no internet. Total cutoff from the ‘corruption of the outside world.’”

“Huh,” Dean said, his mind still elsewhere.

He saw, but ignored, Sam and Ember exchanging a significant glance.

“Don’t you get it?” Sam asked. “They’re turning this place into some kind of fundamentalist compound.”

“No, I get it,” Dean said. Who cared? Who cared, in the end.

Dean saw Sam and Ember exchange glances again. “And?” Ember asked.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sam asked.

“I get it, I just don’t care,” Dean answered.

“_What?”_ Ember and Sam said together.

“What difference does it make?” Dean asked.

Sam and Ember both started talking at once.

“It makes a hell of a-…” Sam started.

“Dean, you can’t possibly-…” said Ember, and both of them stopped.

Sam started the conversation over. “At what point does this become too far for you? Stoning? Poisoned cool-aid?”

“Have you ever heard of _The Crucible_?” Ember asked him. “Salem witch trials?”

“The angels are toying with these people,” Sam added.

Dean shrugged. “Angel world, angel rules, man.”

“And since when is that okay with you?” Sam asked.

“Since the angels have the only lifeboats on the Titanic,” Dean answered. “I mean, who exactly is supposed to come along and save these people? It was _supposed_ to be us. We can’t do it.”

Ember and Sam exchanged the most significant look yet. “So what, you want to just stop fighting, roll over?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Maybe.”

“Don’t say that,” Sam said.

Ember screamed, “Hell no!”

“Why not?” Dean asked.

“Because you can’t do this!” Sam protested.

“Actually, I _can!”_ said Dean.

“No, you can’t,” Sam said. “You can’t do this to _me._ I’ve got one thing – _one_ thing – keeping me going. You think you’re the only one white-knuckling it here, Dean? I can’t count on anyone else! And I can’t do this alone.”

“Dean, what the hell am I gonna do without you?” asked Ember. “And I’m not talking about in a clingy girlfriend kind of way. Do you know how horrible it was for me, waiting back at home for the two of you when Lucifer was set free?”

Dean saw Sam flinch at this, and knew that his brother still felt guilty for the debacle.

“Dean, we go out fighting, and we fight together, or not at all!” Ember continued.

Dean put down the cup of water he was holding and turned to leave.

“Dean-…” Ember shouted after him.

“I gotta clear my head,” he said by way of explanation, and left.

***Ember POV***

April 10, Early Morning

After Dean left, Sam and Ember wasted no time in calling Castiel. Castiel was extremely drunk, however fortunately he still had some answers. “The names of all of the prophets are seared into my brain,” Castiel told them. “Leah Gideon is not one of them.”

“Thank God,” Ember said.

Castiel and Sam looked at her curiously.

“Well, no angel I know has ever condemned premarital sex before,” Ember said. “I just wanted to make sure that wasn’t some new thing I had to abide by to get into Heaven.”

“There is no rule in Heaven about pre-marital sex,” Castiel said, confused. Sam just laughed and rolled his eyes.

Dean returned early the next morning, his hands bloody, with even more clues. “Paul’s dead,” Dean said, referring to the town bartender. “Jane shot him.”

“Dylan’s mother?” Ember confirmed. “I never did like her.”

“It’s starting,” Castiel said.

“_What’s_ starting?” Dean asked. “Where the hell have you been?”

“On a bender,” Castiel replied.

“Did he – did you just say ‘on a bender?’”

“Yeah. He’s still pretty smashed,” Sam replied.

“It is not of import,” Castiel said drunkenly. “We need to talk about what’s happening here.”

“Well, I’m all ears,” said Dean.

“Well, for starters,” Sam said, “Leah is not a real prophet.”

“So therefore, we can go back to premarital sex and gambling,” Ember clarified. “Drinking is still outlawed by angels though.” Ember couldn’t help but smile as she said it, taking a drink of lemonade to hide her smirk.

“Nice try,” Dean said. “You might have even fooled me if you weren’t sitting next to a drunk angel. What is she, exactly?”

“The Whore,” said Castiel. 

Ember choked on the lemonade. “Wow, Cas, tell us what you really think,” said Dean.

“She rises when Lucifer walks the Earth,” said Castiel, reading from an old scripture book. “And she shall come, bearing false prophecy.” He tapped the page. “This creature has the power to take on a human’s form, and read minds. The book of revelations calls her the ‘Whore of Babylon.’”

“Well, that’s catchy,” said Dean.

“The real Leah was probably killed months ago,” said Sam.

“Wait a second,” said Ember. “Wouldn’t I have known? I can see demons for what they really look like, and I can recognize an angel in human form.”

Castiel shook his head. “She is made to imitate a prophet, which is a human,” said Castiel. “There was no way you could’ve known.”

“What about the demons attacking the town?” Dean asked.

“They’re under her control,” said Castiel.

“And the Enochian exorcism?” Dean asked.

“Fake,” Castiel said. “It actually means, ‘You breed with the mouth of a goat.’” Dean raised his eyebrows at Castiel, who added, “It’s funnier in Enochian.”

“So the demons smoking out – that’s just a con?” Dean asked.

“Joke’s on them,” Ember added. “Leah surely had to know I’d kill most of those demons without their fake Enochian exorcism.”

“Demons throwing each other under the bus is nothing new,” Castiel said, “And she’s stronger than all of them.”

“Great,” Ember said.

“So what’s the endgame?” asked Dean.

“What you just saw,” Castiel said. “Innocent blood spilled in God’s name.”

“You heard all that Heaven talk,” Sam said. “She manipulates people.”

“To slaughter and kill, and sing peppy little hymns,” Dean said. “Awesome.”

“Her goal is to condemn as many souls to Hell as possible,” Castiel said. “And it’s just beginning. She’s well on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit.”

“Alright,” Dean said, “Then how to we go ‘Pimp of Babylon’ all over this bitch?”

Ember grinned up at Dean. She loved his sarcasm sometimes. 

Castiel disappeared, but reappeared a second later. “The Whore can be killed with that,” he said, placing a long branch on the table. “It’s a stake made from a Cyprus tree in Babylon.”

“Great,” Dean said, “Let’s ventilate her.”

“It’s not that easy,” Castiel said.

“Of course not,” replied Dean, and Ember groaned.

“The Whore can only be killed by a true servant of Heaven,” Castiel said. 

“Servant like…”

“Not you,” Castiel said. “Or me. Ember’s half demon. Sam, of course, is an abomination. We’ll have to find someone else.”

***Dean POV***

April 10, Early Evening

Ultimately, “Team Free Will” – Ember, Castiel, Dean, and Sam – were able to convince the pastor to kill his daughter, the Whore. He knew, deep down, that it wasn’t really his daughter, and that this creature was bad news. 

The fight didn’t start off on the best foot, however. Castiel moved to hold the Whore and the pastor came forward with the Cyprus tree branch, but the Whore was ready for him. “_Pizin noco iad.”_ It was an Enochian chant of some sort, and Dean watched Castiel buckle and let go of Leah. Leah then threw the pastor backward into the wall.

Before she could toss Sam and Dean, however, Ember hit her with a blast of power. “Don’t even think about it,” she screamed, but Ember and the Whore seemed to be evenly matched.

Instead of continuing to fight Ember, Leah ran into the other room, where several of the congregation were making plans to hurt other members of the congregation. Apparently, Leah had told them that tonight was “Judgment Day,” and that they had to prove themselves to the angels by burning some of the “sinners.”

The pastor took off after Leah. “Wait! No!” Sam yelled, and he, Dean, and Ember sprinted after both of them.

“Help me!” Leah yelled to her followers. “He’s a demon!” Two of Leah’s followers attacked the pastor, and Dean and Sam joined the fight as well. “Light the kerosene,” Leah told Dylan’s parents, and Ember hit her with another wave of force power.

Sam freed himself from his opponent and launched himself into Dylan’s father just as he began to light a match. Dean also freed himself from his opponent, and looked around in time to see Ember’s nose start to bleed, still making the effort to hold Leah back.

Leah withdrew her force powers from Ember abruptly and side-stepped, and Ember collapsed to the floor in surprise due to the lack of resistance, like when an opponent suddenly lets go during a tug-of-war game. Dean made toward the Whore, but she knocked him downward and climbed on top of him. Ember recovered and made to grab for the Cyprus stick, but the Whore stuck out her hand and held Ember back, stopping her in her tracks.

The Cyprus stick was so close… Dean could reach it if he only stuck out his arm, but the Whore was trying to choke him. She saw the direction of his eyes, and laughed at him. “Please. Like _you’re _a servant of Heaven. This is why my team’s gonna win. You’re the great vessel? You’re pathetic, self-hating, and faithless. It’s the end of the world, and you’re just gonna sit back and watch it happen.”

It happened at the same time: Ember pushed the Whore off of Dean with her force powers, and Dean grabbed the Cyprus stick and stabbed it through the Whore. It was over quickly: she rolled over, and the hole in her belly spit out sparks, and finally she was no more.

Five minutes later, Dean half-carried Castiel out the door, while Sam half-carried the pastor. “Dean, how did you do that?” Sam asked.

“What?” Dean asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Kill her,” Sam answered.

“Long run of luck held out, I guess,” Dean said, avoiding the question.

“Last I checked,” said Sam, glancing quickly at Ember, “She could only be ganked by a servant of Heaven.”

“Well, what do you want me to tell you?” Dean asked. “I saw a shot, I went for it.”

“Normally I’d be happy at your discovery of self-worth,” Ember said, bringing up the rear. “But you’re scaring the hell out of me, Dean.”

Now back at the Impala, Sam and Dean helped their respective partners into the back seat. “Are you going to do anything stupid?” Sam demanded.

_Depends on your definition of stupid._ “Like what?” Dean demanded, glancing at Sam over the top of the car.

“Like Michael stupid.”

_I wouldn’t tell you first if I was._ “Come on, Sam. Give me a break!”

But he knew neither Sam nor Ember believed his answer.

A few minutes later, when he knew Sam and Ember were involved in caring for Castiel and the pastor, Dean attempted to make his escape.

“Where you goin?” asked Sam.

“I’m just gonna grab some clean bandages out of the trunk,” Dean promised. “Relax.”

But when he had no sooner started the Impala than Ember materialized in the passenger seat. With a sinking heart, he realized she must’ve turned invisible, followed him out the door, and slid in before him. “Don’t even think about it,” she said, using her powers to freeze him in place.


	15. Point of No Return, Minutes to Midnight

***Ember POV***

April 15, Night

It was less than a week later, and not much had changed. Dean had been locked in Bobby’s panic room for much of the previous five days, after admitting that his plan was to agree to become Michael’s vessel. He had even somehow managed to banish Castiel and break out of the panic room. It hadn’t been Ember who had found him and brought him back, but Castiel, who had returned staggering inside half-carrying a very bloody Dean Winchester. 

“What happened to him?” Bobby said with surprise.

“Me,” Castiel answered. 

“Good,” Ember said, rolling her eyes, and nobody commented further.

To make matters worse, the angels had brought back the third Winchester brother, Adam, from the dead. Adam reported that Zachariah had offered him a chance to be Michael’s vessel as well, and he had accepted because Zachariah had promised him that he would be reunited with his dead mother.

“What do you think,” Sam asked Ember, Bobby, and Castiel late that night. “Do you think they’ve given up on Dean, or they’re just using him as bait?”

“Bait, definitely,” said Ember.

“Yeah, I think so too,” Bobby said. 

“I’m out of ideas,” said Castiel. “How about you three?”’

There was silence. Ember sighed. “I’ve got one,” she said, “but it’s… terrible, frankly.”

“Well, let’s hear it,” Bobby said.

“Well, we can’t storm the gates, right? We know where Zachariah is holding Adam, but we need all the help we can get to break him out.”

“Right,” said Castiel.

“Dean would be the most helpful in storming the gates, because they won’t try to kill him. But we can’t get any help from Dean, because if he gets inside he’ll simply offer himself up as a sacrifice, right?”

“Right,” said Sam.

“So… reverse psychology.”

“What?” asked all three men together.

“Reverse psychology. You know… pretend we have faith in Dean to continue to turn Michael down. Lay it on really thick. Sam, you could use lines like, ‘You’re still my big brother. When push comes to shove, you’ll make the right decision.’ And I’ll use lines like, ‘You’re smart enough to know that it’ll make Sam and I feel guilty for the rest of our lives if you do this.’ You know, crap like that.”

Sam appeared to mull the idea over for a bit. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“It’s a terrible idea,” Castiel said. “But it’s the best we’ve got.”

Bobby sighed. “So we’re going to attempt to convince Dean to continue refusing Michael by playing on his sense of _guilt_, then ask him to help us break out Adam?”

“I’m all ears if you have a better plan,” Ember said.

Bobby sighed. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing Dean’s got a lot of guilt.”

***Dean POV***

April 16, Day

Dean Winchester was positive that Ember and Sam had lost their minds. If it had been him – if it had been any _sane_ person – they’d’ve kept him in the panic room. The two of them allowing him to go help break Adam out of the angel room was ludicrous. They _trusted him to make the right decision?_ Didn’t they understand he planned to turn himself in to Michael?

Even as he thought this, though, he wondered if he was doing it for the wrong reasons. When Sam had talked to him about his decision to turn himself in to Michael the day before, Dean had come up with a load of crap about not trusting Sam. “I don’t know whether it’s gonna be demon blood, or some other demon chick, or what, but… I do know they’re gonna find a way to turn you.” At the time, he’d thought he’d been over Sam’s actions from a year ago, and that he’d just said what he’d said to get Sam to leave him alone or even stomp off in a huff and let him out of the panic room. Now, he wondered how much of his desire to turn himself over to Michael was because he didn’t trust Sam, versus how much of it was really a desire to save Sam, Ember, and the universe as a whole. But weren’t they the same thing? 

And how angry would he be if Sam or Ember had taken the sacrifice route? Hadn’t all of this trouble started in the first place because Dean had sacrificed himself for Sam and gotten himself sent to Hell? Dean had been so sure of his actions yesterday, but Sam’s belief in him had shaken him.

Once they had been “Team Free Will” – “one ex blood junkie, one drop out with six bucks to his name, a half demon, and Mr. Comatose.” Dean remembered calling them this one time early in the Apocalypse, when Castiel had rebelled against the angels and paid the price. Dean smiled at the memory fondly.

Now, “Team Free Will” (if they could still call themselves that) walked slowly toward the abandoned muffler factory in Van Nuys, California, where Adam was being held by the angels. “There are at least five angels in there,” Castiel said.

“So?” Dean said. “You’re fast.” He still bore the scars from the angel’s beating the previous evening.

“They’re faster,” said Castiel. He sighed. “I’ll clear them out. Ember, you can help, like we discussed last night. You two grab the boy. This is our only chance.”

“Whoa, wait,” said Dean. “You’re gonna take on 5 angels?”

“Yes,” said Castiel.

“Isn’t that suicide?” asked Dean.

“Maybe it is,” said Castiel. “But then I won’t have to watch you fail.”

Dean’s heart sank a little further. When he’d first decided to agree to Michael, he hadn’t realized it would mean letting his friends down quite this much. “I’m sorry Dean,” Castiel said. “I don’t have the same faith in you that Sam and Ember do.”

There was that faith again, the unwavering faith of his brother and his girlfriend. Dean watched, his heart full of guilt, as his best friend carved a banishing sigil into his own chest so that he could banish as many angels as possible, including himself. 

He watched with guilt as his girlfriend and his best friend fought the four angels guarding the door to the room where Adam was being held, but his girlfriend was stopped by specific warding on the door to the room, and only Sam and Dean could pass.

He realized, full of guilt, that the whole thing had been a trap to get him to the room where Adam was being held, and that Adam had been used as bait.

He watched with guilt as Zachariah tortured his two brothers, and his girlfriend watched, unable to help, from outside, through a glass wall that Zachariah had created.

Fuck Zachariah. Fuck all the angels, except for Cas, who may be dead.

So in the end, perhaps Sam and Ember were right to have faith in him. He had been right in the first place. He would kill demons, and angels, and everything that came in his path, for family and for free will. And he started with Zachariah, with an angel blade through the face.

But the room was shaking, and Michael was coming, and Sam and Dean were hurrying through the door, and somehow, in the end, Adam was still too slow. The door shut on him and turned white-hot. When Dean was able to open the door again, it was no longer a beautiful room containing a dead angel, but simply the abandoned office of the abandoned muffler factory.

***Dean POV***

May 5, Day

After Adam disappeared with the angels, things seemed to happen much faster in regards to the Apocalypse. Near the end of April, the angel Gabriel fought Lucifer and was killed, but he left Sam and Dean with information: “Without me, you’ve got zero shot at killing Lucifer. Sorry. But, you can trap him. The cage you sprung Lucifer from is still down there. And maybe, just maybe, you can shove his ass back in.

“Not that it’ll be easy. You gotta get the cage open, trick my bro back into it, and uh – oh yeah – avoid Michael and the God squad. But hey – details, right?

“And here’s the big secret,” Gabriel continued. “Lucifer himself doesn’t even know. But the key to the cage – it’s out there. Actually, it’s keys - plural. Well, _four_ rings. From the Horsemen. You get them all, you got the cage.”

And so they had their plan. The group had already obtained the rings belonging to War and Famine, so they already had half of what they needed. Thanks (ironically) to the demon Crowley, by the end of April the brothers were also able to nail down a location for Pestilence, one of the two remaining Horsemen.

Finally, at the beginning of May, Sam approached Dean with a proposition.

“Assuming we _do _get all of the rings,” Sam said one afternoon on the way to Bobby’s, “How the hell are we going to trick Lucifer into the cage?”

Dean looked at Ember in the back seat, who met his eye, but said nothing.

“No idea,” Dean responded to his brother. “But we’ll think of something.” Worst case scenario, Sam could drink demon blood, and between Sam, Ember, and Crowley, perhaps they could get the job done. He wasn’t going to suggest that idea, though.

“Well, I’ve got an idea,” Sam said.

“Go on,” said Dean with trepidation, pulling into Bobby’s in South Dakota.

“Now don’t get mad, Dean-…”

“No. No, you are not about to suggest that you let Lucifer wear you to the prom,” Dean said, growing increasingly irritable. He slammed the door to the Impala and walked up to Bobby’s, Sam and Ember in his wake.

“Well, I was just thinking that sometimes people can resist possession, like that demon Julia last year who exorcised the demon after she had Jesse-…”

“Yeah, after nine months!” exclaimed Ember. “Sam, that’s a ridiculous idea!”

“She’s right,” Dean said. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dean-…”

“No, don’t ‘Dean’ me! I mean, you have had some stupid ideas in the past, but this – Did you know about this?” Dean asked, looking at Bobby.

“What?” Bobby asked.

“About Sam’s genius plan to say yes to the devil?”

Bobby looked downward, and Ember admonished, “Bobby! Why didn’t you call us?”

“Well thanks for the head’s up!” Dean yelled at him.

“Hey, this ain’t about _me_,” Bobby defended.

“You can’t do this,” Dean told Sam fiercely.

“That’s the consensus,” Sam said, noncommittally.

“And you promised you wouldn’t do it unless we agreed,” Ember told Sam. “You _promised._”

Sam nodded.

“Alright, awesome!” Dean said. “End of discussion.”

It _was_ the end of the discussion, because at that moment Castiel called. It was the first time the group had heard from him since he had been banished with the other angels in California, so Dean was glad to learn that he was okay. 

The day after that, “Team Free Will” got the ring from Pestilence. It was a close battle, with Castiel being still very weak, and Pestilence spreading disease everywhere, but in the end it was still successful, and they were one more Horseman’s ring closer to ending the Apocalypse.

***Ember POV***

May 7, Day

The next day, the group met up again at Bobby’s to regroup. It was at this point that Bobby told them that Chicago was “about to be wiped off the map. Storm of the millenium. Sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die.”

“Huh,” said Dean nonchalantly. He had driven most of the night and was half-asleep.

“Lovely,” said Ember, rolling her eyes. They were all feeling a bit worse for wear by now. They had really hoped to get some sleep before going out again.

“Well, Death – the Horseman – he’s gonna be there,” Bobby said. “And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, and get his ring back…”

“Yeah,” Dean said, “You make it sound so easy!”

“Hell, I’m just trying to put a spin on it,” said Bobby.

“Bobby’, how’d you put this all together, anyways?” asked Sam.

“I had… you know… help,” said Bobby evasively.

Ember narrowed her eyes. Suddenly Ember heard the chink of glass behind her, and realized that Crowley had appeared in the room. “Don’t be so modest,” he said, pouring himself some whiskey. “I barely helped at all.”

“Bobby!” Ember admonished him. 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Hello, boys,” Crowley said. “Half-demon.” He nodded at Ember.

“Bite me,” she said.

“Pleasure, et. cetera,” he said, ignoring her. “Go ahead. Tell them,” he prompted Bobby. “There’s no shame in it.”

“Bobby?” said Sam in a warning voice. “Tell us what?”

Bobby took a long time to answer, shooting Ember a guilty look first. “Bobby, you didn’t!” Ember said, jumping up.

“World’s gonna end,” Bobby said, shrugging. “Seems stupid to get all precious over one little… soul.”

“You sold your soul?!” Dean asked him aggressively, and Castiel gave them all a look of frustration.

“Oh, more like pawned it,” Crowley said. “I fully intend to give it back.”

“Then give it back!” Ember and Dean shouted at the same time. Ember’s anger at her father was rising. Dean had talked about his father selling his soul to save Dean, but Bobby had promised her once that he’d never do the same thing.

“I will,” Crowley said.

“Now!” Dean yelled.

“I swear to God, I’ll kill you,” Ember threatened him.

“Did you kiss him?” Sam interrupted.

Bobby looked arrested. “No!” he exclaimed, but Crowley had a picture showing otherwise.

“Why’d you have to take a picture?” Bobby asked.

“Why’d you have to use tongue?” was the demon’s response.

There was silence in the room for a second, before Ember said, “This is ridiculous. I’ll kill you,” and she jumped up.

“Uh-uh-uh,” said Crowley. “That won’t get his soul back. Relax, I’m just keeping it as insurance.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Dean.

“You kill demons,” Crowley said. “Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it.”  
He nodded at Sam, then at Ember. “And you’ve got a half demon with a Heaven complex over there that won’t hesitate to kill me just to free my host the moment I’m no longer useful,” he added. “But you won’t kill me… as long as I have that soul in the deposit box.”

“You son of a bitch,” Bobby grumbled.

“’I’ll return it,” Crowley said, “After all this is over, and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?”

Ember straightened herself, and shot at Crowley with her force powers, knocking him backward against the wall. Though he could heal easily, it helped her get her anger out. “Remember this morning,” Ember said, glaring at Bobby, “When we were all worried about the Apocalypse, and none of us were worried about going to Hell?” Then she stormed out of the room.

***Ember POV***

May 11, Day

Ember took a nice long shower. By the time she got out, the Winchesters and Crowley had gathered even more news. The same day that Death was due to arrive in Chicago, the Croatoan virus was scheduled to distribute in the form of vaccines simultaneously to civilians. The scheduled date was nearly a week away, but the week went quickly as they rested, gathered ammunition, and prepared. 

Castiel spent the week of preparation with them, which was both good and bad. It was bad, because the reason for his stay with them was that Heaven had stripped his powers and he was nearly entirely human. It was good, because it allowed them to pick his brain about Heaven, Hell, and everything in between. Ember also enjoyed spending time with Castiel, which was something she’d never really had an opportunity to do before.

Two days before the date they would arrive in Chicago, Ember and Castiel spent most of the day together for the first time ever. Bobby, Dean, and Sam had left on a long trip to go get ammunition, and weren’t back for nearly 7 hours. Castiel and Ember practiced their shooting and sparring, but took several long breaks to relax.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ember asked Castiel over sandwiches in Bobby’s office.

“Shoot,” he answered.

“How human are you, exactly?”

“I’m still entirely angel,” Castiel said. “Just without most of my powers. I’m cut off from Heaven, I’ve lost the ability to fly, and I’ve lost most of my power.”

“Do you… do you still feel my demon attraction?” Ember asked. She wondered if this question was too personal, but she was also very curious.

“Yes,” he said, not looking at her.

“Oh,” Ember said, shifting awkwardly.

“I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable,” Castiel said in his low voice.

“It’s okay,” Ember said. “I am who I am.”

“It’s… never mind,” said Castiel, looking away.

“What?” Ember asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Castiel. “I’m just… I feel like I’m a burden here.”

“Castiel, you could never be a burden,” Ember replied, turning in her chair to look at him.

“How?” he asked. “I’m not as strong as you anymore. I’m not as good at fighting as Dean or Sam. I can barely shoot a gun. How am I helpful?”

“Are you kidding? You’re still as strong as the average demon,” Ember said. “And it’s not like our lives are chalk full of friends,” she added.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She laughed. “Humans need more than just the same two or three people every day to make them feel like they’re worthwhile,” she said. “Sam, Dean, and I… we’ve cut almost all of our friends out of our lives. I get to see my Mom, and Mike once in awhile, but… it’s too dangerous for me to see anyone else. You’re a _friend_, Cas… and that means more to Sam, Dean, and I than they’ll ever be willing to tell you.”

He looked at her with a smile on his face, for the first time since he’d returned from the fight with the angels nearly a month ago. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she told him.

***Ember POV***

May 13, Night

The five of them (Bobby, Castiel, Ember, Sam, and Dean) had made the trip to Chicago. They’d decided to go in two groups – Dean, Crowley, and Ember would face off with Death, and the other three would stop the distribution of the Croatoan virus. They’d been delighted to find out, shortly before they went their separate ways, that Crowley’s deal with Bobby had come with the perks of him getting his legs back, at least for the time being. Although Ember was irritated with Crowley for not mentioning this to Bobby sooner, she also thought that it was beautiful to see her father take his first steps again. It was a fitting end, almost, since she and Dean were almost certainly going to die that night.

Apparently Dean was thinking the same thing. “Sammy, are you _sure_ you don’t want Ember on your team? Last chance, you know…”

“Dean,” she admonished.

“I mean, don’t you think you’re going to need the extra-…” Sam began.

“Dean will need her,” Castiel said. “Having her come with us would be a waste of her powers. The three of us should be able to handle the demons doing the distribution.”

This was the truthful answer to the question, and everyone knew it. “Thanks Cas,” Ember said.

“Yeah, _thanks, Cas,_” Dean said sarcastically. Ember knew Dean had wanted her to go with the other group because she’d have a better chance of survival, not because he wouldn’t need her. Thankfully, Castiel hadn’t picked up on this.

Ultimately, the groups remained the same, and everyone said heartfelt good-byes. And then they were off.

Ember didn’t remain at Dean’s side for long, though. When they found Death, he was in a pizza parlor in Chicago. He barely looked at either Dean or Ember as he invited them to sit down for pizza.

“Hmmmm,” he said, studying her closely. “You’ve really made Lucifer angry.”

“I… I guess so,” she said. Was he going to kill her? Why wasn’t he making a move? Why was he just staring at her, the way a human would stare at a particularly interesting bug specimen?

“You don’t need to try _quite_ so hard, you know,” Death said. “You’ll get into Heaven regardless, at this point.” Then he seemed to study her for another minute, his dark eyes boring into hers. She could feel Dean’s hand around hers, and knew that his other hand was on his gun, poised to strike, poised to do _anything-…”_

“Too much of a bleeding heart,” Death said finally. “Be gone.” He waved his hand, and the next thing Ember knew, she was sitting on Bobby’s couch, roaring with anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part, where Sam takes Dean along on "faith", always annoyed me. He's got a lot of faith in Dean, I get that... but he's also not stupid. I like my way better. Let me know. Reviews make me SQUEE.


	16. Swan Song

***Ember POV***

May 15, Morning

_ Shhtttt click. Shhtttt click. _Ember looked at the clock in her room at Bobby’s house. It was 5:45 AM, and the light was just beginning to peak through the window. Dean was sitting at her small desk, playing with the four rings he had obtained from all of the Horsemen. He had made a deal with Death for the fourth ring, but at a price, he said: He had promised to allow Sam to become Lucifer’s vessel.

“_Dean_,” Ember said. “You just finally got home _four hours ago._ Come to _bed.”_

“Did,” he said, “Couldn’t sleep.”

Reluctantly, Ember padded over and put her arms around her boyfriends’ neck, kissing him softly.

“Ember?” he asked her quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she said. Truthfully, now that she was awake, she knew she wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep either. The thought that Dean had lied to Death was terrifying, and the thoughts that Sam would dump himself into the pit – or would agree to become Lucifer’s vessel and then _wouldn’t _dump himself into the pit – were equally as terrifying.

“If it wasn’t Sammy,” Dean said, “If it was… was anyone else… would you tell them to go for it? Would you let them jump into the pit?”

Ember sighed. “Dean… If it wasn’t Sammy, I wouldn’t trust them to even try.”

“You trust Sam?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Ember said. “He’s not who he was a year ago, with Ruby. He’s… he’s desperate for redemption, though. He’ll do anything to prove himself to you, and to Bobby.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Dean said. “Not anymore.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Ember.

They were silent for awhile, before Dean finally said, “Considering that it’s… you know, the end of the world. And if it wasn’t Sam we were discussing… what would you say to him jumping into the pit?”

Ember sighed again. “You want to know what I think, from a logical standpoint.”

“Yes,” Dean whispered.

“You already know the answer to that,” she told him, squeezing his hand. “Dean, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Ultimately Adam and Lucifer – in whatever vessel – will face off. Honestly I don’t know what they’re waiting for… I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already.”

“The only thing I can think is that Lucifer is waiting for Sam,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I agree,” Ember said. “But he’s causing a hell of a lot of death in the meantime.”

“Exactly,” Dean said. He paused again. “So you’re saying I have to choose between my brother… and the rest of the world?”

Ember sighed again. “Dean, it’s not your choice. And I hate it – I _absolutely _despise it, and I’d give _anything _to find another way, but… it’s _Sam’s_ choice, in the end. And we both know what choice you would make, if it were you.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” said Dean.

Ember and Dean said nothing for a long time

***Ember POV***

May 16, Day

“Ember, wake up,” Dean said quietly into Ember’s ear.

Ember awoke with a start. Today was the day. Today was the day Sam sought out Lucifer. She looked at her alarm; it was nearly 8:00! “Dean, what the hell!” Ember looked down at her alarm. “What the hell is wrong with this thing? I know I set it for 6 this morning… Dean, why didn’t you wake me?”

It was at that point that Ember noticed that Dean was looking extremely guilty. “Dean,” she said sharply. “What did you do?”

“Look, Ember, it’s just… um, your mother asked me to…”

“No!” Ember said fiercely. If her mother had been talking to Dean, it had been to beg him for her to stay away from the final battle.

Bobby came in at that moment. “Look, Ember, I can’t help agree with your mother, and I know how hard it is-…”

“What the _hell?”_ Ember said, fully awake now. She was furious with both of them. She knew what they wanted her to do, and there was no way she was going to stay back. They would need her help, anyway.

“Ember, do you remember when I was in the hospital?” Dean asked.

Ember stopped, surprised. Dean continued. “You said, ‘Dean, where am I going to go? I’m in this too.”’

“_Exactly_ my _point_,” Ember said, “I’m in this, so you’d better-…”

“You’re only in this because you’ve had no other choice,” said Dean, and Ember’s words died on her tongue. “You never wanted to be a hunter. You did it because it was safer than staying in one place and waiting for the demons to come to you. It was safer for you, and safer for the people you loved.”

“Dean, I love _you!” _she protested, and flinched at how whiny she sounded.

“And I love you too,” he told her, yelling now. “I love you enough to let you have a normal life. Without Lucifer, you can go back to therapy, go back to exorcising a low-level demon once every couple of years and having the rest of them leave you alone… you can have the apple pie life that none of the rest of us could ever have!”

Ember was stunned. For a very long time now, she had always imagined that if she ever did settle down, it would be with Dean. “What about you?” she asked.

He sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Ember… you know what we plan to do. There are no guarantees for any of us – me, Bobby, Cas, or Sam. We might all get ourselves killed fighting Lucifer.”

“Yeah, and then what the hell am I supposed to do?” she asked.

“You’re supposed to live,” Bobby said from the doorway. “Like your mother wants. Like _we_ want. Like _Sam_ wants.”

“And what if I could’ve helped _you_ live?” Ember shouted.

“You can’t,” said Bobby. “Lucifer is far more powerful than you… you’re not nearly powerful enough to meet him in battle, but just powerful enough to be a threat to his army,” said Bobby. “Now that he knows which side you fight for, you’ll be the first one taken out.”

Ember knew he was right, but that didn’t stop her from insisting. “You can’t keep me here. None of you can.”

“Actually, we can,” said Castiel from the doorway, filing his way inside.

“What do you mean?” Ember asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I recreated the warding that was on the door to the room where Adam was being held in the muffler factory,” Castiel told her. “Your demon powers are strong enough that it’ll keep demons out and you inside.”

Ember was seething now. They had planned this out! They must’ve all gotten up at the crack of dawn to do this warding. Well, fuck them. “If you try to keep me in here while you guys go on this suicide mission, I’ll raise this place to the ground, Bobby!” she yelled maniacally at him.

“Yeah, I thought of that,” said Bobby. “So most of the place is protected by magic. But you’re welcome to burn the TV, it’s getting old anyway.”

“YAAAAHHHHHH!” screamed Ember. She threw Castiel against a wall, and he hit the wall and slid down it, blood appearing on the side of his head.

“Cas!” she screamed, leaping after him as soon as he hit the floor. “Oh my God, Cas, I’m so sorry! I forgot you weren’t… I forgot, I’m so sorry!”

Castiel picked himself up off of the floor, dabbing at the blood trickling from his head. “I probably deserved that for something at some point,” he said casually.

“Cas, I’m so sorry!” Ember protested. “I didn’t mean to-… I just thought…”

“You forgot I don’t have the powers I used to,” Castiel said. He glared at her, moving his head back and forth slowly. “I understand. You are very upset. But don’t let it happen again. It hurt.”

“What’s all the noise?” Sam asked from the doorway. “Can we get this show on the road?”

They all looked at each other then, unsure what to do or how to act. Finally, Ember spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “If this is my last time seeing everyone…” She took the sarcasm out of her voice. “I want to say goodbye to everyone. Separately.”

Ember didn’t really want to say goodbye to anyone, but she’d learned at some point that it’s better to say goodbye than to regret not having said it. She wasn’t prepared for this, and she knew she’d think of a thousand better things to say later. Still, if there was anything she had learned from Carl, and from Jesse, and from the several other experiences with death and abandonment that she’d had throughout her life, it was that she never, _ever_ wanted to leave (or let others leave) angry. She was still furious, of course, but she knew she would be more furious later if she didn’t tell them all goodbye now.

Ember thanked Castiel for everything, and apologized profusely for sending him across the room, even though he had stopped bleeding and promised that he was not in pain. “I’ll see you again,” he told her, “in Heaven. I’ll find you.”

“You’d better,” she told him. “But not too soon.”

Ember hugged Bobby good-bye. “I know you’re not gonna like this,” Bobby told her, “but the truth is I’m happy to die hunting, much happier than I’d’ve been to keep livin’ without legs.”

Ember hung her head. “I know, Bobby. But what about your soul?”

Bobby shrugged. “Well, I ain’t goin’ to Hell, not if it’s in a safety deposit box. Tell you what though, if you’re cravin’ adventure… if I die, I’m gonna come back as a ghost, okay?”

Ember frowned. “Bobby, you know you can’t-…”

“No, I mean, I’m gonna have to. Just for a little while, just so you and I have time to get my soul back, and then you can know I’ve gone to Heaven.”

Ember laughed, despite herself. “Okay, Bobby, you’ve got yourself a deal. Don’t die, okay?”

“Well, I’m gonna try,” he said, giving her a long hug.

“And Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you’re my father, right? No matter what any demon did.”

Bobby smiled. “Yeah, girl, I know.”

Sam was harder to say good-bye to.

“Ember, I’m glad I got to talk to you alone,” Sam said.

Ember didn’t know what to say. What was there to be said? With the other three, at least if they died, they would go to a better place, a safe place. With Sam, they were _hoping _he ended up in Hell. What could she possibly say? “Sam…”

“Ember, I won’t come back from the pit,” he said.

She said nothing.

“You’ve gotta make sure Dean doesn’t come looking for me.”

“Hell no!” Ember said, surprised. This had not been the goodbye speech she had anticipated. “I’m not agreeing to that, and he won’t either!”

“Ember, he’s gonna need you after I… well, when I’m in the pit,” Sam said.

“There’s no denying that,” Ember said, “but I will _never, never _promise to stop looking for you, or to make him stop looking.”

“I made this mess, and I’m going to clean it up,” Sam insisted.

“Look, I’ll be there for Dean, but you can’t, _can’t _make me promise that,” Ember said, finally looking at him. As she feared, when she looked at him she began to cry. “Sam, you’re… you’re my best friend. And I never… I should’ve been able to stop you. I should’ve killed Ruby when I had the chance, earlier. I was strong enough.”

“Ember, this is not your fault, okay? I just… I want what’s best for Dean. Consider it a dying man’s wish, okay? Please!”

Ember looked at her lap, then up at Sam again. “Sam, I’ll do anything for you, you know that. _Anything_. But you can’t ask me to do this. And you can’t ask it of Dean, either. This is _Hell_ we’re talking about. And Dean and I will never be happy while we know you’re rotting in there.”

Sam and Ember stared at each other for a few seconds, eyes narrowed and calculating. Then, finally, Sam pulled Ember into a long hug. “I can’t make you promise it,” he said. “But just… know that it’s what I want. And it’s what’s best.”

“Duly noted,” Ember said into Sam’s chest. Then she added, “Sam, I want you to know, you don’t have to do this.”

Sam sighed again. “Yes, I do.”

“No, listen,” Ember said. “You don’t have to do this, for redemption, or so that Dean and I think better of you, or-…”

“I know,” Sam said, stepping back from her. “I’m doing it because it’s what’s right, and I’m the only one who can.” 

Ember looked downward, breaking eye contact. “And you know it too,” Sam added. He took her into a hug again, and they stayed that way for a few moments. “Take care of yourself, Ember,” he said, and made to leave the room.

“Good luck, Sam,” she whispered.

Dean was the last person to say goodbye to Ember, and the most awkward. He stood in front of her for a few seconds, unsure of what to say. “Your mother will be here in a couple of hours,” he told her awkwardly. 

“Yeah, okay,” she said, still awkwardly. “Dean, it’s not too late. I could still go. You know I’d be-…”

“Ember,” he said warningly, without looking at her.

“Fine,” she said irritably, and they went back to standing awkwardly. Finally, she held her hands out to him and said, “Dean. Come on. Talk to me. It’s _me.”_

Dean swallowed, then finally began to speak. “Look, Ember, if I do make it back… we should get a place together.”

“_What?”_ Ember asked, surprised.

“Ember, I wanted you to know,” he said, shuffling his feet again, “that when I picture myself happy… it’s with you.”

Ember didn’t know whether to hug him or punch him, but she settled for hugging him and crying. “I’m sorry Dean,” she said. “I know you hate… this.”

“I love you, Ember,” he said into her hair. “And I… I wanted you to know that this past year has been the best year of my life. Despite the Apocalypse, despite everything…” And he held her back, then, to look in her eyes. “I don’t remember ever being so happy as I have been this last year.” His voice broke on the end, and he held her closer again.

“Dean…” Ember whispered.

They stayed there, hugging, for a long time, until Castiel finally knocked. “Sorry to interrupt,” Castiel said, “but it’s past time to go.”

“I know,” Dean said. “Oh! Right!” He shot a glance at Castiel. “Ember, I was supposed to tell you… if we do succeed, you’ll know immediately. Castiel thinks the increase in your powers should go back to normal once Lucifer is in the pit.”

“It’s my best guess,” Castiel said. “But one of us will call you as soon as we’re able, regardless.”

Ember nodded, looking again at Dean.

“I love you, Ember Nelson,” he said, kissing her.

“I love you too, Dean Winchester,” she said.

And then they were gone.

***Ember POV***

May 18, Afternoon

It had been over 48 hours.

Just under 19 hours after they had left, Dean had called to tell Ember they’d all arrived in Detroit.

At just over 21 hours, Bobby had called to explain to Ember that the plan hadn’t worked: Lucifer had known about the rings, and had taken both Sam and the rings and disappeared. They were on their way back.

“What if Lucifer comes here?” Ember had asked him.

“I thought of that,” Castiel said, as Bobby had put him on speaker phone. “Crowley’s adding angel warding to Bobby’s place as we speak.”

“Thanks,” said Ember. She was upset about Sam, and upset about the coming Apocalypse, but at least Dean and Bobby were okay, and she could get some sleep.

Ember woke up 27 hours after they left, and she and her mother prepared Bobby’s house with food and beer, as two people will for two men who are very deeply upset.

At 36 hours, Dean called to explain that he’d decided to head toward the final battle anyway. It was scheduled for noon the following day.

“Dean, no!” Ember cried into the receiver. “That’s suicide!”

“Maybe,” Dean said. “But I’ve gone to Hell for my brother… trust me, suicide is nothing, in comparison.” And to tell the truth, Ember had known, all along, that he’d make that decision.

Starting at 11:30 AM on the day of the final battle, Ember began attempting to walk out of her house. She knew Castiel was right – she’d know, long before she got a phone call, what had happened with Michael and Lucifer. The strength of her powers were the only things keeping her inside the warding. If Lucifer was defeated and her powers went back to normal, the warding would allow her to leave.

By 12:10, Ember was lying in the doorway to Bobby’s house, tapping her toe rhythmically against the magical barrier, with her mother desperately attempting to distract her by engaging her in conversation. Finally, Ember felt her toe poke through. “Mom!” she said excitedly. “I’m free!”

Immediately, Ember raced to her car, a blue Cruze that had been housed at Bobby’s for over a year now. 

“Wait!” her mother screamed after her.

“Well, come along, then!” Ember exclaimed.

“Fine,” her mother said quickly. “We’ll take my car.”

It was nearly a half hour later of non-stop calling when Castiel finally answered his phone.

“Dean says to stop calling,” the angel said immediately. “We’ll meet you back at Bobby’s.”

“I’m on my way there,” Ember answered. “I’ll meet up with you in Omaha.”

“Ember says she’ll meet up with us in Omaha,” Ember heard Castiel say to Dean.

“Tell her there’s no need, we’ll be home in a few hours!”

“He said-…” Castiel began.

“Tell him I don’t care, I’ll meet him in Omaha!” Ember told Castiel. Without waiting for an answer, she asked, “Is Bobby with you?”

“He’s in his car,” Castiel answered. “I brought him back.”

“What do you mean you brought him-…”

“I have to hang up the phone,” Castiel said. “We’ll see you in Omaha.”

It was another five minutes before Ember was able to reach Bobby, who gave her the rest of the story. “I’m sorry about Dean,” he said. “I told him to call you. He just-…”

“Doesn’t want to talk about it yet,” Ember filled in. “Yeah… I know.”

“I love you, kiddo,” he said, after a pause.

“I love you too, Bobby. See you in Omaha.”

Ember was sad for the loss of Sam. Truthfully, she was forced to admit, it was the best case scenario. Dean was alive. Bobby was alive. Even Cas was alive. And now, her life could finally settle down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me awhile to figure out what I wanted to do with Swan Song, so in the end I had to just think, "How would the characters most likely handle this?" And this is what I ended up with. I hope you likey


	17. Exile on Main Street

***Ember POV***

September 24, Day

(One Year Later)

It had been over a year since Sam had fallen into the pit.

Ember’s life was no longer dominated by her powers. She had run into two demons in the past year, and both of them had been exorcised – the normal way, with words. She still maintained her invisibility, and her “party tricks”, but once more she could no longer move people or animals.

Dean and Ember had settled down in Lafayette, Indiana. Ember’s job as a therapist was hard work, and it was stressful, but in a completely non-fatal way. Dean worked construction during the day, and often spent time with one of the neighbors, who also worked construction, in the evenings.

Sometimes, it was as though they had never had another life. They didn’t fear for their lives anymore, and the most exciting thing that had happened since Lucifer falling back into the pit had been the two demons that had come to call. Ember hadn’t seen Castiel since the downfall of Lucifer, either. She had tried praying to him, but it was as though he had never existed.

Ember had only seen Bobby a handful of times in the last year, though they talked often on the phone. Sometimes, when Dean would become particularly sad, Ember would make up an excuse to visit Bobby. She knew that sometimes Dean needed to talk to someone who had known him and Sam for a very long time, and he always seemed to leave Bobby’s feeling slightly better.

Ember had looked for a way to pull Sam out of Hell, in the beginning, but she had reached only dead ends. With Castiel not answering prayers and Crowley being less than helpful, neither she nor Dean could think of anything further that could be done. They knew that Bobby was constantly searching through his contacts with other hunters for new leads, as well. Still, though they never completely gave up, both of them were forced to admit that it was unlikely they would ever get Sam back. It was as though a giant hole had been blown through their lives, but they filled it the best they could – with work, sex, and the perfect apple pie life.

And then one day, Sam returned.

***Dean POV***

September 24, Day

Dean was happy.

As happy as he could be without Sam, he was. He had good friends, a good paying job, and an apple pie life. 

He was even lucky enough to have a woman who understood and supported him. She knew he had a jar of holy water and a sawed-off under his bed (she kept her revolver under her pillow). She understood that sometimes he needed to drink too much and talk about Sam (even though she didn’t like the drinking). She even encouraged him to look for Sam, as though he needed encouraging. 

In the beginning, they would often spend weekends driving to some other corner of the US to chase a lead, though nothing ever showed any promise. More recently, however, leads had been fewer and farther between, and then eventually they had become nonexistent. Dean missed hunting, but he supposed that this was safer. He’d taken up golf lately, and it at least filled the time. He was bored, but he also knew that he was lucky – lucky to have Ember, lucky to have a “normal” life, and lucky to be away from the danger that used to plague his existence.

It was a shock, therefore, when he somehow ended up face to face with Azazel in his garage. “You can’t outrun your past,” Azazel told him viciously. It happened so quickly. Now, after a year of _nothing_… and just as Dean’s eyes closed, he could’ve sworn he saw Sam again.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

When Dean woke up, he saw Sam immediately. He was still in the garage he shared with Ember. _This must be Heaven_, he thought. That _would _be his Heaven – the house he shared with Ember, and Sammy was there, too, and his beloved Impala.

So why did his chest hurt so much?

Just as he was contemplating this, Sam stood. “Hey, Dean. So, I was expecting… I don’t know… a hug? Some holy water in the face? Something.” 

“So I’m dead?” Dean asked, still confused. “This is Heaven?”

For some reason, this made Sam laugh.

“Yellow eyes killed me, and now-…”

“Yellow eyes?” Sam asked. “That’s what you saw?”

“Saw?” Dean asked. He was very confused.

“You were poisoned,” Sam explained. “So whatever kind of crazy crap you think you’ve been seeing, it’s not real.”

Now Dean was really confused. Was this his subconscious attempting to warn him that he’d been poisoned? “So, then, are you… real? Or am I still-…”

“I’m real,” Sam said. “Here, let me save you the trouble.” Sam got out his silver knife and sliced a mark on his arm. Then he took a jug of water and dipped a cross in it along with some salt, and drank it. “That’s nasty,” he said.

Dean wasn’t sure if he believed it. It was too good to be true. “Sammy?” he said hesitantly.

“Yeah,” said his brother. “It’s me.”

Dean approached him, slowly, carefully… and hugged him, with everything he had. For one shining moment, life was perfect. He had Ember, and the house, and Baby, and now he had Sam, too. He had missed him so much since he fell… _Wait a minute._. “Wait a minute, wait a minute, you were _gone, _man. I mean that – that was it. How the hell are you-…”

“I don’t know,” Sam said.

And there it was. Because nothing, _nothing _could ever be perfect. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean no idea,” Sam said. “I’m – I’m just back.”

“Well was it God, or Cas? I mean, does Cas know anything about it?”

“You tell me,” Sam answered. “I’ve been calling. Cas hasn’t answered my prayers. I don’t even know where he is. I mean, I was down there, and the next minute, it was raining, and I’m lying in that field, alone. It’s kind of hard to go looking for whatever saved you when you’ve got no leads,” Sam said. “I looked. I mean, believe me… I looked. For weeks.”

Something in Dean’s head came to a screeching halt. _Weeks._ He’d been looking for _weeks._ “Wait, weeks? How long have you been back?”

Sam didn’t answer.

“How long have you been back, Sam?” Dean said sharply.

“About a year.”

“About a _year_?”

“Dean…” Sam started.

“You’ve been back practically this whole time?” Dean shouted at his brother. “What, did you lose the ability to send a friggin’ text message?!”

“You finally had what you wanted, Dean,” Sam said.

“I wanted my _brother!”_ Dean yelled. “Alive!” He was furious. How many hours, days, _weeks_ had he spent looking for Sam?

“You wanted a family,” Sam countered. “You have for a long time, maybe the whole time. I know you. You only gave it up because of the way we lived. But you had something, and you were _building_ something. Had I shown up, Dean, you would’ve just run off.”

He had been right, Dean would reflect later, but at that moment he wanted to send Sam back to Hell. What was he supposed to tell Ember? What was he supposed to tell _Sam?_ It was too much to take in.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam said. “But it felt like after everything, you deserved some regular life.”

Slowly, still not fully comprehending everything, Dean asked, “What have you been doing?”

“Hunting,” Sam answered.

Dean immediately felt an unexpected pang of jealousy. “You left me alone and you were flying solo?”

“Not solo,” Sam clarified.

This was even more surprising. “What?”

“I hooked up with some other people.” said Sam.

“You?” Dean asked. “Working with strangers?”

“They’re more like family,” Sam said, “and they’re here.”

This surprised Dean even more. 

Half an hour later, Sam introduced Dean to three of his cousins… and his grandfather, risen from the dead! He was shocked to see his grandfather, Samuel again. Nothing added up. Something was very fishy. Dean was unable to focus on that at the moment, however, because the problem at hand was so much more pressing: apparently, a djinn was after him.

“I got hit a few days before you did,” Sam told him. “Dosed up with poison... After they came after me, we were pretty certain that they were gonna go gunning for you next.”

Dean’s heart dropped. “Ember,” he said. “She’ll be getting home from work any minute. She’s never fought a djinn before, and it’ll be able to see her, even if she goes invisible. We gotta go, now!”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Dean had forgotten how it felt to worry about Ember. Perhaps back when he did worry about her, worrying about Ember and Sammy was so second-nature to him that he was never even conscious of it. Now, however, he felt himself drowning in it. Fortunately, Ember was fine. 

She turned white as a ghost when she saw Sam, though. She disappeared immediately, and Dean knew she was running for her revolver. “Ember! Wait!” he yelled. “It’s really him!” And he threw himself in front of his brother, unable to track his invisible girlfriend.

Ember appeared in the room again a second later, revolver, salt, and holy water in hand “Prove it!” she screamed, and sent the salt and holy water through the air toward Sam.

When Sam was finished going through the motions with the salt, holy water, and his silver knife, Ember stood still for exactly six seconds. Then she launched herself at Sam, flinging her arms around him and squeezing him.

“Whoa, Ember, not so hard-…”

But just as Ember let go, a vase of fake roses went soaring through the air at Sam’s head, and he ducked just in time. “Sam Winchester, what the enormous _fuck_ did you think you were doing?” Ember screeched at him. “You couldn’t have called first, or texted? It’s been a damn _year!?”_

_“_Yeah,” Dean said, his anger flaring again now that his worry had abated. “And guess what? He’s been back _the whole time.”_

“_What?”_ Ember cried, and for a second Dean remembered the look in her eyes when she had thrown Castiel across the room the previous year. “Sam, do you have _any idea_ the lengths we went to to look for you!?”

“Exactly!” said Dean. “I looked _everywhere._ We collected _hundreds_ of books trying to find _anything _to bust you out.”

“You promised you’d leave it alone,” Sam said.

“I didn’t promise _shit!”_ Ember yelled.

“Of course I didn’t leave it alone!” yelled Dean. “Sue me!” He sighed. “A damn _year?_ You couldn’t put me out of my misery?”

“Well I’m _sorry_,” said Sam sarcastically. “You know _now_, anyway.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

On the way back to Samuel’s, Dean and Ember decided to call Bobby.

“Bobby, we have the best news!” Ember told him. “You’re never going to believe this… but Sam’s alive!”

There was silence on the other end of the line. After several seconds, Bobby said in a very unconvincing voice, “Yeah, that’s great!”

Dean and Ember looked at each other, and Dean knew that Ember was thinking the same thing he was. “You _knew?”_ Dean asked. “You knew Sam was alive?”

Bobby was silent for a few seconds. Finally, he admitted, “Yeah.”

“How long?” Ember asked sharply.

Bobby didn’t answer.

“_How long?_” yelled Dean into the receiver.

“All year,” Bobby admitted.

“Bobby, what the _hell!?”_ Ember exploded.

“And I’d do it again!” Bobby yelled back into the receiver.

“Why?” Dean asked sharply.

“Because you two got _out_,” said Bobby. “My _daughter _got _out. _You walked away from the life. And I was so _damn _grateful, you’ve got no idea!” Neither of them could see Bobby, but Dean could imagine his stubborn face on the other end of the phone line.

“Do you have any clue what walking away meant for me?” Dean screamed into the phone.

“Yeah,” Bobby said. “A woman – _my daughter_ – and neither of you getting your guts ripped out at age 30! That’s what it meant!”

“You had _no right-…”_ screamed Ember into the phone.

“I had _every right!_” Bobby screamed back. Dean had only ever heard him this upset twice – when he had found out he might not be Ember’s father, and before Lucifer had risen, when Dean had almost given up on Sam. “And I don’t know how the hell you found out, but I wish to _God _you hadn’t!”

Ember let out a long scream of anger, just as Dean rolled into a gas station. “I’ll go pay for gas,” Ember said huffily. Dean knew that this was Ember’s way of getting away from the argument before she said something she would regret. He allowed her to go through the motions of fueling up the truck and then grabbing some food for both of them, hoping she would calm down before she climbed back inside. He could tell that Ember, too, suspected that Bobby had orchestrated this grand scheme. He also suspected that Ember’s mother might have had something to do with it, if indirectly.

Meanwhile, Dean continued talking to Bobby. “How could you do this to us?” he said, lowering his voice. “When Sammy fell into the pit, Ember and I were both half out of our minds with grief, especially me! I don’t know why she’s kept me around. I drank too much. We both had nightmares!”

“Look, I _get_ it wasn’t easy,” said Bobby. “But that’s _life!_ And it’s as close to happiness as I’ve ever seen a hunter get! And you’ve got to remember, that’s my _daughter_ you’re dating.” Bobby lowered his voice, and Dean could imagine him on the other end, shaking his head. “It ain’t like I wanted to lie to you, either of you. But you were _out._”

“Do we _sound_ out to you?” Dean spat at Bobby.

***Ember POV***

September 24, Night

After discussing the djinn with Dean’s grandfather Samuel, it was decided that everyone would head back to Ember and Dean’s home to serve as bait to draw them out. While they waited, they talked with Samuel. “Did your brother tell you what we’ve been dealing with the past few months?” Samuel asked Dean.

“No, not really,” said Dean.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” said Samuel. “Been working ‘round the clock.”

“What’s going on?” asked Ember.

“We don’t know,” Samuel said. “But whatever it is, it goes way past a couple of djinn acting off. We’ve got nocturnals attacking in broad daylight, werewolves out on the half-moon, and creatures that we’ve never even seen before. We don’t even know what they are! I’m knee-deep in half-eaten human hearts and exsanguinated 10-year-olds, and it’s all making me… uneasy.”

Ember looked at Dean, horrified and concerned. Dean said, “So what’s your theory?”

“You tell me,” Samuel said. “All we really know is, it’s all hands on deck. We’re counting on each other right now. That’s how it is with Campbells. We need you, Dean. And you too, Ember.”

Ember looked at Dean, unsure of his answer. She knew he liked their life, and how happy they were, but she also knew that with Sam back, things had changed. 

Plus, if she was restless, she knew he was practically chomping at the bit to start hunting again. To her surprise, however, he said, “Look, I hear you, but-…”

“You don’t know what you’re a part of, Dean,” Samuel said. “You know, you had ancestors hacking the heads off vamps on the _Mayflower._ What I’m saying is that we’re your blood. And we’re out there dying, trying to get in front of whatever this is.”

Dean made eye contact with Ember then, just for a second, and Ember saw it, plainer than ever in his eyes – the yearning to go hunting again.

***Ember POV***

October 1, Evening

The djinn were dead. Ember had managed to kill one of the djinn that had been about to kill the neighbors, including Dean’s close friend. Dean had rushed to help her. Sam had taken out a second djinn, and Samuel had taken out a third.

Dean had turned down Samuel’s offer to hunt with them, but he had been silent and broody ever since. It had been a week since Dean had last seen Sam, but instead of seeming happier that Sam was alive, Dean appeared more irritable than ever. Then, at the beginning of October, Dean had called to let her know that Sam had called him needing his help with an “emergency case involving a baby.”

Ember knew what she needed to do. If she admitted it to herself, she had always known this day would come. She loved Dean, but he would never be happy living an “apple pie life.” There were days when she wasn’t sure if _she_ was happy living an “apple pie life”, so how he had made it through the last year without spontaneously combusting was a mystery to her.

Therefore, after Dean returned from the “emergency with the baby,” Ember finally broached the conversation with him that she had been dreading since she had first seen Sam again.

“Dean… about what Samuel said yesterday…”

Dean stopped, turning to face her. “I told you, I’m happy here. Plus, I need to be here in case something attacks.” Then he turned away from her again, and she knew he was avoiding the real issue.

“Dean,” she said, crossing her arms over the dinner table.

Dean took his time pulling a pizza out of the oven, before finally facing her, guiltily. “Yeah?”

Ember took a seat at the table. “Dean, I’ve been restless over the past few months, ever since the leads dried up about Sam.”

“Gee, I wonder why that happened,” Dean said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I know,” said Ember, rolling her eyes. “But anyway, I’ve lived a normal life, away from danger, for the most part. Now, I’ve got more addiction to adrenaline than your average person – anyone who dates you would need to. I like hunting, it’s just… not what I want to do on the regular.”

Dean nodded at her, as though this decided it. She continued. “But Dean, you’ve hunted all your life. You’re _good _at it. And you _miss_ it, I know you do.”

Dean looked down at the floor. It was out in the open now. 

Finally, Dean spoke, raising his head to look at her. “Are you kicking me out?”

Ember was shocked. She walked over to him quickly and put her arms around him. “Dean, you’re an _idiot.”_

He looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not kicking you out,” she said, taking his hand and leading him over to the sofa. “But I also know you’re not happy. So… I don’t know what to do.”

Dean sighed. He held out his arm, pulling her to him. It was a long time before he spoke. “Ember… I don’t know what to do here.” He sighed again. “I mean, I forgot what it’s like to worry about you. And I was _so scared_…” he shook his head. “I mean, if I knew for sure what the safest thing was, then I’d do it. Should I stay here and look after you… or get as far away as I possibly can?.... I don’t know.”

“Dean, I’m happy here. You know that. But… you’re not. I know that, too.” She turned around to look at him. “Dean, maybe I’m safer with you here… maybe gone. I don’t know. But the one thing I do know is that you’re not a construction worker.” He looked at her carefully, resigned. “And now that you know Sam’s out there, things are different! You’re meant to _hunt_. I hate to say it, but Zachariah, and Samuel… both of them were right. It’s in your _blood.”_

He held her close. “Ember, I wanted so badly for you to have a normal life. For _us _to have a normal life. But my past… I can never escape it.”

“Dean… I’m never going to have a normal life. We can try to make an “apple pie” go of it all we want, but at the end of the day, you’re a born and bred hunter, and I attract demons. You’ve taught me everything – _everything _you know – how to defend myself, how to fight, and how to shoot. We even laced all the walls at my job with salt last year when it was under construction!” They smiled at the memory.

Dean still seemed unsure, so Ember took a different tact. “You don’t want to be here, Dean.”

“Yes, I do,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” Ember said. “But… you also want to be there. I get it.” She paused, then took both of his hands. “Dean, you’re white-knuckling it, living like this, like what you are is some bad, awful thing. But it’s not.”

Dean looked downward again. He had never been good at taking compliments. “Dean, way back in the beginning, before Lucifer, before Lilith, before Anna, even – I wanted _you_. As you were. And I had a great time traveling with you and Sam during the Apocalypse – or, well, as good a time as was possible. But this life was never _really_ for me. I like joining you every once in awhile, you know? And don’t think that I won’t, because I _will_. But… my place is here. So… go save the world, Dean.”

“I can’t just lose you,” Dean protested, interlacing his fingers with Ember’s.

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

He looked at her curiously.

She smiled. “What I’m saying is… don’t forget to call me every day, Dean Winchester.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It never made sense to me that Sam would head up the crusade to leave Dean in the dark about him being brought back from the cage - not because keeping a secret from Dean wasn't a complete "Sam" thing to do, but because his reasons ("you wanted a family... you deserved a regular life") weren't characteristic of someone who has no soul. I personally think Bobby helped steer Sam in that direction, and him being Ember's father makes that line of thinking make even more sense.
> 
> Also I used a lot of Lisa's lines for Ember, but a few originals as well. This was not my favorite chapter to write and I was probably lazy about it, but it needed to be written to get to some of the good stuff later.
> 
> Leave reviews! They make me happy!


	18. Live Free or Twihard

***Ember POV*** 

October 8, Evening

“Well I’ve had a day,” Dean told Ember when she picked up the phone.

“Yeah?” Ember said, finishing up a television show.

“You’ll never _believe_ who finally popped in.”

“Eh?” Ember said, paying attention to both Dean and the television.

“Cas!” Dean explained.

“No way!” Ember said, paying attention now.

“Yeah! And he popped up as soon as I prayed to him, too!”

“No way,” Ember said again. “I’ve prayed to him at least once a week over the past year, and he hasn’t even said hello!”

“Yeah, well, remember how he didn’t used to be as much of dick as other angels? Well, apparently he’s gone back to his roots over the last year.”

“Uh, oh, what happened?”

“According to Cas, Heaven’s in Civil War,” Dean said, recounting the story. Apparently an angel called Balthazar had stolen the Staff of Moses, along with other weapons, from Heaven. He had sold one of them to a little boy in return for his soul. The boy had wanted to get even with some policemen who had wrongfully killed his older brother.

“What the hell are angels doing selling souls?” Ember asked Dean.

“Well, that’s what I said,” Dean answered. “Apparently souls are worth a lot. Maybe they’re like… I don’t know, the gold dubloons of Heaven.”

“That would make sense, I suppose,” Ember said thoughtfully. “So what happened after that?” she asked.

“Well, that’s the weird thing… so Cas said that the only way to know which angel had sold the Staff of Moses to the kid was to read some kind of brand on his soul. And it was really painful for the kid… it was like Cas was torturing him.”

“And you just let it happen?” Ember said in surprise.

“No! I told them they couldn’t torture a kid like that, but I was outvoted.”

“Outvoted?”

“Yeah, Sam just stood there! He just asked if there would be any permanent damage!”

“That doesn’t sound like Sam at all!” Ember said, worried.

“I know, right! I keep telling you, there’s something really wrong with Sam. It’s like he doesn’t care about the things he used to care about.”

“Well, everyone handles Hell differently I guess,” Ember said. “There’s something I never thought I’d say.” She rolled her eyes, then realized that Dean couldn’t see her. “Look, I know it’s not exactly your strong suit, but have you tried talking to him about it?”

“Only the once, and he just said he didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, so did you, when you got back,” Ember pointed out. “And I had to hear about it from _Uriel_, of all people.” 

“Fair point,” Dean replied begrudgingly. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

They were silent for a second. “So did the kid get his soul back?” Ember asked.

“Yeah, we got it back for him in the end. There’s more to the story, but before I forget, speaking of souls… Bobby’s finally got a plan in motion to get his back.”

“Yeah?” Ember asked. “It’s about damn time.”

“Yeah… how do you feel about going to Scotland next weekend?” Dean asked. “Do you think you could get off for it?”

“What the hell is in Scotland?” Ember asked. “I mean, it’s Bobby, so of course I’ll make time for it, but… Scotland?”

“Crowley’s gravesite, apparently.”

_Interesting_, Ember thought. She wondered how many demons Bobby had had to kill to get that piece of information. “Yeah, okay. It’ll be good to get some time away. Lucky it’s on a weekend. Hey Dean, I gotta go… I’ve got a client on the other line,” Ember said, groaning. “Can I call you back?”

“Yeah, sure. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

***Dean POV***

October 22

Dean was turning into a vampire.

He was fast. He was strong. He hated light. He could see the beginnings of fangs in his gums. And he was thirsty, and he knew it wasn’t for food.

Normally he would’ve asked Sam to kill him. Or sought comfort with Sam. Or even _talked _about it with Sam… but Sam wasn’t Sam anymore. Sam had stood there, and watched as he had been bitten. He didn’t know why, but he _was_ sure that it _had_ happened. The look on Sam’s face as he had watched – calm, cool, collected, even curious – was forefront in Dean’s mind at the moment.

Ember would know what to do. She had to know, regardless. She had to know that Sam was dangerous…

He stood over her bed, and at that moment it occurred to him that he was a vampire, watching the girl that he loved sleep – something he had called “rapey” only a few hours before.

Ember gasped awake, suddenly, and Dean marveled at how adorable she looked, her hair messed up from sleep, and her white nightgown falling off her curves. “Dean!” she said in surprise.

“Hey,” he said.

She turned on a light, and he turned his head but then forced himself to look at it. He had come to say good-bye. It wouldn’t do for her to know something was wrong. She would find out later, he was sure… but not now.

“Hey,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting you for a couple of days.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I wanted to see you.”

“What’s up?” she said. “It’s… it’s 3AM, Dean.” She scooted close to him.

He scooted farther away, choosing a seat on the edge of their bed. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Listen,” he said. It was everything he could to not to reach for her, but he didn’t trust himself to do so. God, this was so cliché it was making him want to throw up.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

He could hear her heartbeat. “It doesn’t matter. But I need you to know. Just… thanks. Okay? For everything. And… I love you.”

“Dean?” Ember said, moving closer. “You’re scaring me.”

He moved farther away from her again. Her heartbeat was so fast. “Oh, God,” he mumbled. “I’m Pattinson.”

“_What?”_ Ember said, and though Dean was turned away from her, he could hear that she was moving for her revolver. This was not going the way he had wanted.

“I’ve got to go,” he said.

“What the hell, Dean?” Ember said sharply. “What got you? Werewolf? Vampire?” She had him at the end of her revolver, now, though they both knew it wouldn’t do any good. Dean knew she normally would have gone invisible, but she still trusted him to be able to control himself.

“Believe me, I wish it was different,” Dean said.

“We can figure this out,” Ember said, panic in her voice. “Just tell me what’s going on!”

“I can’t bring this crap home to you,” he said. This had gone all wrong… he had just wanted to tell her he loved her. And he needed to tell her about Sam…

“What are you talking about?” Ember asked. “What got you? Come on, Dean, what’s going on, you’re scaring me!”

He started again. “Ember, Sam… he’s not right. He’s… and I’m gonna die. Soon.”

“Dean?” Ember said again, and she took another step closer to him.

In one swift motion he had her up against the wall. He could hear her heartbeat. He could smell her shampoo, so much better than he ever had before. And he was _so hungry…_

And then he felt fangs breaking through the skin, and he turned away from her abruptly. “I gotta go,” he said.

In his effort to get himself away from her, he threw her aside, and she hit the wall again, knocking the back of her head on it and sliding down. 

“Dean!” she called after, him, but he was already halfway out the door.

***Ember POV***

October 23, Early Morning

“Ember, I’m sorry.”

“Dean, don’t… don’t worry about it. Christ, until an hour ago you were a vampire! Let’s just… just go to sleep and talk about it in the morning.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean repeated.

“Dean, I can’t have this conversation with you when the only thing separating you from Edward Cullen is a disgusting-looking homebrewed vampire cure potion and a damn shower.”

“Ember, I know you’re angry. Please, just… just let me have it.”

Ember sighed. After Dean had left the previous night, she had managed to reach Sam, and caught up with Sam and Samuel on their mission to help cure Dean of his vampirism. The potion, an old recipe of Samuel’s, required Dean to kill the vampire who had turned him, which he had done. It had been very bloody, and Ember, who had previously been anxious to join Dean on a hunt, felt that she had had enough of monster-hunting to last her at least a month or two. Dean and Ember had their own motel room for the night, and it should’ve been a happy occasion before Dean set off again in the morning. Ember was steaming mad, though, and apparently it showed. “Dean, I’ve never, _never _felt unsafe with you,” Ember said finally. “I’ve seen you killing, I’ve seen you knifing, I’ve seen you massacring. But I’ve _never _felt unsafe with you until tonight, and you’ve _never _hurt me.”

Dean hung his head. If she wasn’t quite so angry with him, it would’ve been adorable.

“And I get it,” she continued. “I get that you were a vamp, you know? But what I don’t get, is why the _hell_ you would come home? I _get _that you wanted to say goodbye, but you couldn’t have called and given me a heads-up? I mean, _come on_! What…”

Ember shook her head, trying to collect herself. “I mean, it’s bad enough…” But that sentence would only lead to bad things. _It’s bad enough that you can’t come home more than once every month or so. It’s bad enough you want to hunt, and I want to stay home and adopt._

“Look, Dean, what if I’d had a houseguest or something? What if I’d had a… I don’t know, a roommate or something, someone you were less motivated to not eat?”

“Like a kid?” Dean asked accusatorily.

“Yes, like a kid!” Ember yelled at him.  
“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean said. “I can only say it so many times. I fucked up. I fucked up, for real. I put you in danger, and I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

Ember sighed. “I know, Dean, it’s just… I worry about you, all the time. But I don’t worry about you getting killed by a monster half as much as I worry about what you’re _not telling me_. It’s like when you wouldn’t talk to me about hell, and when you tried to escape to go be Michael’s vessel.” Dean winced as Ember brought up these topics.

“It’s like what Sam’s doing now,” Ember continued. “You’re right, it’s obvious he’s not telling us something, but God forbid I’m actually able to get it out of him. Well, you do that too! I can’t spend the rest of my life guessing what’s going through your head, Dean. I’m pretty good at it by now, but it would help if you told me _basic _things… things like, ‘By the way, I got turned into a vampire!”’ 

“I know,” Dean said. He pulled her to him, and she allowed it. “The only thing I can do is promise that I’ll never do it again.”

“Thank you,” Ember said after a long pause. She felt like she wanted to say more, but she couldn’t think of anything that she hadn’t already covered. He had already apologized several times, and she knew better than to metaphorically “drive in the knife” after Dean was already upset with himself. She kissed him. “I’ve missed sleeping next to you. Let’s get some sleep.”

But though they slept in the same bed for the first time in over a week, neither of them got much sleep.

***Ember POV***

October 29, Day

Ember felt lucky – she’d seen Dean three times that week after work. From Limestone, IL (where Dean had been turned into a vampire), Dean and Sam had moved on to Calumet City, IL, which were both within a 2 hour drive for Ember. If she (or Dean, at one point) drove the hour and a half after work, they were able to see each other, stay the night, and drive back before work the following day.

Ember was still wary after the vampire incident, but aside from this one bad decision, Dean had seemed back to his normal self. Ember was even more scared about Sam, who was acting more and more abnormal by the day. Dean was convinced Sam had watched him get turned, and after spending time with Sam over the past month, Ember wouldn’t put it past him. It was like… Ember contemplated. It was almost like Sam’s emotions never seemed to reach his eyes anymore. “I used to have a really great friendship with him,” Ember had told Dean the night before last. “But now it’s like… like something’s changed, since he’s been in Hell. If he’s not asking me to join the two of you hunting, he’s working on a case, or looking for another case. It’s like…”

“He never slows down, and he’s always calculating? Yeah. Tell me about it,” said Dean.

“It’s like what makes him human is… gone,” Ember said.

Ember continued to contemplate the Sam situation as she pulled up to the motel Dean was staying at. Dean was outside in his car, but his reaction when he saw her was less than ideal. He looked almost… scared.

“Dean!” she said, smiling slightly.

“Ember, you should know before you come any closer-…” he began.

“I want to get married and have a child with you but you’re never home,” Ember said abruptly. Then, “Oh my God! Why the fuck did I say that?”

“I’m, um, under the effects of some sort of truth spell,” Dean said.

“You couldn’t have called and told me?” Ember asked him.

“It works over the phone, too,” Dean said. “Bobby just told me he gets pedicures and that he’s a huge fan of Tori Spelling. I’m scarred for life.”

“Oh,” Ember said, stunned and somewhat disgusted. She paused. “I’m not sure we can stay together because I really want a family, and you never stay home. And sometimes the decisions you make cause me to wonder if you would be a decent father anyway, because you’re reckless and you don’t think first.”

Dean’s face fell.

“I’m sorry, Dean, that came out harsher than I meant!” Ember explained. “I… haven’t really been thinking about breaking up or anything.” Then immediately. “That’s a lie. I’ve thought about it a couple of times.”

They stared at each other. Then Dean grinned. “So, um… since we’re here anyway… have you ever cheated on me?”

“No!”

“Good.” He grinned again. “See, this could’ve been a whole lot worse! I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you hit the hotel room, and I’ll stay out here. When I get this damn thing removed, I’ll come back.”

Ember smiled. “I love you, Dean. You need to stop pushing your anger down. You push it down, and you push it down, and you’re freaking impulsive.” Ember’s eyes widened again. Suddenly she had an idea. “Hey, is there any chance you can call that girl at work I keep bitching about? Tell her… I don’t know, tell her I’m really sick and I might not be at work tomorrow, and you’re calling for me.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, just text me her number.”

Ember’s eyes widened. “Thanks! Oh my God, this conversation is so embarrassing, but thank you! I drink out of the carton sometimes when you’re not looking.”

“Ew!” Dean said as Ember disappeared into the motel room.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Two hours later, they were back in the motel room. Dean and Sam had successfully killed the goddess Veritas, and the truth spell had been broken.

“Ember… have you really thought about breaking up?”

Ember squirmed uncomfortably. “Only in the darkest moments,” she said honestly. She took a deep breath. “I mean, the vampire thing was just a week ago. But… Dean, I have a feeling that truth spell not only makes you tell the truth, but makes you tell it in the harshest way possible.”

“Yeah, it does,” said Dean. “But… I want to know the truth, Ember.” They smiled at each other despite the situation, as these had been the words that had invoked Veritas’ spell.

Ember stood up from the bed, unable to stay sitting for this conversation. “The truth is, ever since you’ve started hunting again, I’ve wondered… what’s going to be in our future.”

Dean stood up too, and began to pace around the room. “Ember, I know you say I don’t tell you things, and you’re probably right, but I’m going to try. It’s… it’s like I was saying to the Goddess earlier. I told myself I wanted out, that I wanted you, and a family. And I wasn’t lying. I _do._ But you were right, too… what I’m _good_ at is killing things. I’d love to be a father. But… I don’t know if I’m going to live past tomorrow. So if you want someone to stay home, and cook food, and raise children… Ember, I love you, but I’m not it.”

Ember sighed. “I know that, Dean. But it’s… it’s more complicated than that. I mean, we’ve talked about… about having children. And I can’t exactly have children either. Any child of mine would be adopted, and would have to be familiar with ‘the life.’” (Here Ember made air quotes.) “And you know how it is,” Ember continued. “Monsters orphan kids every day. It’ll happen, eventually. There’s a couple of kids at work that I think have had an encounter… they won’t be too hard to find, once I’m a little older and ready for a kid. So it’s not like I’m wanting an “apple pie” life either… that ship sailed for me when my powers kicked in when I was 15.”

Ember sat down on the bed again, her speech almost completed. “It’s just… I wonder how it’s all going to fit together, is all.”

Dean joined Ember on the bed. “Ember, there’s no guarantees about this life, you know that. I may be dead tomorrow for all we know. And it may be better… are you sure you don’t want something different? Something more… stable? I mean, I want you to be happy, and it doesn’t seem like-…”

Ember rolled her eyes. “Dean. I’m a _half-demon_. I may not be able to throw angels against walls anymore, but my life is far from normal. I _love _you. And it would be practically impossible to have a relationship with someone who _wasn’t _in ‘the life.’ Believe me, I’ve tried. So please, if you’re going to try to make some kind of executive decision to end this relationship because you think I’d be better off with an apple pie life, save us both the misery. You hunting again has been an adjustment. We’ll get over it.”

Dean stared her in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Dean. We’ve been together for two years. We can handle some vampires and a truth goddess.”

He smiled at her and pulled her closer, teasing the skin on her lower back under her shirt.

She kissed him for all she was worth, feeling the flat planes of his chest, hard and firm again now that he was back to hunting.

Make-up sex was always fun.


	19. Clap Your Hands If You Believe

***Ember POV***

November 6, Evening

“Hey babe,” Dean said when Ember answered the phone.

“Hey,” she said, finishing up her Wendy’s take-out. “Thanks for the text last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t have a chance to call. Things got busy once we got to Samuel’s place late last night… there’s nowhere private to call there, _at all_.”

“It’s no problem. Where are you now?”

“In the Impala. It’s just me and Sam.” 

“OK… so you didn’t find out anything from Samuel about Sam’s missing soul?”

“No,” Dean said. “More dead ends. Samuel’s soul is in tact. Cas checked.”

Ember shook her head on the other end of the phone. “I still can’t believe Sam’s soul is still in Hell. I guess it explains a lot though.” She paused to take a bite of her burger. “What’s the next step?”

“No idea,” came Dean’s voice. “That’s our only lead. I still don’t think Samuel is telling the truth, though. Meanwhile, you should know… we’re going after the Alpha vamp tonight.”

“What?!” Ember said, spitting out the drink of lemonade she had just taken. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help? Where is he? How far?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said. “We both know you’ve got that big court case tomorrow. Anyway, it’s too far away.”

“But Dean, you can’t go after an Alpha with just you, Sam, Samuel, and two or three cousins.”

“We’re not,” said Dean. “There’s about twenty of us. Samuel russled up some extra goons at the last second.”

“I thought you said you didn’t trust him?” Ember asked Dean.

“I don’t,” Dean answered. “I know he’s hiding something. But I don’t think he’d sell me to the vamps, either. I should be okay. Anyway, I gotta go. I love you, okay? I’ll call you when I’m clear.”

“I love you, Dean. Be careful.”

***Ember POV***

November 7, Early Morning, 3 AM

Ember’s phone was ringing. Ember groaned, turning over in her bed. She hadn’t really wanted him to _call_ her when the crusade with the alpha vampire was over… a text would have been _fine._

“I’m outside,” Dean said. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to stand creepily over your bed again.”

“What happened?” Ember asked, letting Dean inside. He was drenched – there was a thunderstorm going on, and it matched Dean’s mood, Ember noticed. The quest for the Alpha must not have gone well. Ember assessed Dean for injuries, but he seemed okay.

“It was Crowley,” Dean said gruffly, not bothering to dry off before pulling Ember into a hug. “Crowley did everything.”

“Wait, back up,” Ember said, extricating herself from Dean and helping him pull off his drenched jacket. “What do you mean ‘everything?’ What happened with the Alpha vamp?”

“I mean Crowley did _everything._ He’s King of Hell now.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ember said. “Bobby told me. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Must’ve slipped his mind,” Dean said sarcastically. “He raised Sam from the cage. And Samuel.”

Ember gasped. “How is that possible?”

Dean shrugged. “King of Hell.”

“Even still...” Ember shook her head. She couldn’t believe it. “So where is Sam’s soul, then?”

“Don’t know,” Dean said. He followed Ember deftly back to their bedroom, now that he had taken off most of his wet clothing. “But Crowley’s using it to make Sam and I tow the line.”

_“What_?” Ember asked. “Wait… are you trying to tell me that you’re Crowley’s-…”

“Bitch. Yes. He’s making us catch creatures. He thinks they’ll lead him to the entrance of Purgatory.”

“Purgatory? Does that even exist? He’s crazy!” Ember was startled. Dean’s eyes were blown wide in the light from the lightning, and she knew that his expression matched her own. She opened up her arms and hugged him. “Dean… what are we going to do?”

“You’re going to stay here and pretend I never came,” Dean said, pulling off the remainder of his wet clothes and grabbing some dry ones from the dresser. Most of his belongings had been taken with him on the road by now, but there was still a wide selection here. “I’ll be gone before morning. I wasn’t followed, I made sure of it. We’ll have to be more careful from now on, if…” _If you’re sure you still want to be with me._ He didn’t say the words, but they both knew what he was thinking.

“Dean, I can take care of myself, you know that,” Ember said. 

“I know,” Dean said, smiling. “And I love you for it.”

***Ember POV***

November 15, Evening

“Baby, it’s a birthday miracle for you,” Dean said over the phone.

“Yeah?”

“Yup! We caught a case in Elwood, Indiana. We’re on our way now.”

“Seriously? That’s great!”

“Don’t get too excited,” said Dean. “Trust me, it is really _not _a picnic hanging out with frickin’ Dexter over here.”

“Still no luck on the soul reunification front?”

Dean scoffed. “No, and I swear he becomes more of a dick by the day. At least the fact that he doesn’t sleep means that he’s good to drive through the night now. We’ll be there by morning.”

***Dean POV***

November 16, Evening

Dean missed Ember a lot, though (as usual) he didn’t want to admit it. He yearned for the days of the Apocalypse, when Ember was always with them and Sam had a soul. For tonight, though, just for tonight, things felt almost back to normal again. Sam had promised to keep an eye on the suspicious clock maker, and he and Ember were spending the evening investigating crop circles.

Well, they were supposed to be investigating crop circles. What they’d really been doing was having sex in a corn field. 

He had laid out a blanket from the back of the Impala, and she was as beautiful as ever under the starlight. More beautiful, perhaps, because Dean hadn’t seen her in over two weeks, unless you counted the four hours he’d spent warning her about Crowley. 

“Remind me why the hell I went back to hunting, when I could have this every night?” Dean asked her, kissing her neck and down her breasts.

“Quit trying to be romantic,” she said, palming him through his jeans and shoving up against his partially naked chest. “You’re already getting laid. And we _are _hunting.”

He smirked. “I know. I’m killing two birds with one stone.”

Suddenly the phone rang, and Dean recognized Sam’s ringtone.

“Do you have to take it?” Ember asked as Dean reached for the phone.

“Probably, yeah,” Dean said begrudgingly. “I’m pretty sure I’m the only string holding Pinocchio’s morals right now.” Ember chuckled, appreciating the sarcasm despite the dire situation.

“What?” Dean said, answering the phone irritably.

“Only thing this guy’s up to is alcoholism,” Sam said.

“Good,” Dean replied.

“Maybe I should go talk to him again,” Sam suggested. “I mean, you’re the one who said he’s hiding something.”

“Dean!” Ember said in alarm, nudging him. But Dean had heard it too – a noise like a car starting up. “Shhhh!” he told Sam over the phone.

“What? You see something?” said Sam’s voice. “Dean, what’s out there?”

“Hang on a second,” Dean said. He took out his gun, signaling Ember behind him. His pants were unbuckled, neither of them had shoes on, and Ember was quickly struggling to put her bra back on… but none of those things stopped the UFO. It rose above them, shining light directly in their eyes. And then they knew no more.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Dean and Ember couldn’t have been gone more than an hour, and most of that had been walking back to town. Both of them were freezing – Dean moreso than Ember, as he had loaned her his top. Once the aliens had sent them back, all of their clothes, their blanket, the Impala, and their phones were gone. They’d been forced to walk 15 minutes into town to a gas station and call a taxi.

Both of them were horrified to find that Sam had apparently used their time away to sleep with one of the hippie girls they had spotted earlier at the camp for UFO sighters.

“Dean!” Sam said in surprise, and both Sam and the hippie girl turned to face the newcomers in the room.

“What the hell?” Dean and Ember both said at the same time.

“Oh that’s Dean?” said the hippie chick. “Sam, they brought your brother back!” She gave Dean a wide smile.

“No offense, lady,” Ember said, shivering despite Dean’s overlarge top. “But get out.”

Two minutes later, Hippie Chick was finally dressed. “It’s alright,” she said to Sam. “I totally understand. You need time as a family.” She began to head out the door, then stopped. “But it’s just- what were they like?”

Ember had tossed Dean’s shirt back to him and taken the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around herself. She hadn’t noticed Sam’s brief appraisal of her body during the brief moment between Dean’s shirt and the blanket, but Dean was seething inside. He hadn’t thought it was possible to be angrier than he already was. “They were grabby, incandescent douche bags. Good night.”

“Too soon?” asked Hippie Chick, and Dean shut the door in her face.

“You’re upset,” Sam said, facing Dean.

“Dean, do you think it would hurt my entrance into Heaven if I killed him?” Ember said, standing behind Sam. “Soullessness is basically like being a demon, right?”

“Hey!” Sam said.

Dean, finally summoning his will to confront the situation, turned around to face Sam. “I was abducted,” he said. “And you were banging Patchoulli.”

“I didn’t think she smelled that bad,” Sam said.

“I was abducted by aliens!” Dean screamed at his brother.

“I was looking into it,” Sam protested.

Dean heard Ember’s scream of rage from behind him. “Looking into it?” he asked. “I was gone for like an hour! And most of that was walking back to town!”

“An hour?” Sam asked. “Dean, I think your watch is off. You’ve been gone all night!”

“_What?” _Ember shrieked. “I have work in the morning!”

“What are you talking about, no I haven’t!” Dean said.

But he had. According to Sam’s watch, it was “4AM!”

“Yeah!” Sam said. “UFO time slip. That actually falls in line with a lot of abduction stories.”

“Why couldn’t they have abducted _you?” _ Dean heard Ember mutter, though Sam was by that point out of earshot.

“Nothing’s falling in line!” Dean screamed.

“Here,” Sam said, giving both Ember and Dean a glass of whiskey. It was a mark of how bad the situation was that Ember actually drank it. Dean couldn’t count the amount of times she had told him that “whiskey tastes like piss and motor oil.”

“Come on, talk to me,” Sam said. “What happened?”

“Well, uh… there was this, uh…” Dean paused, realizing his words sounded cliché. “God help me, Sam, there was this bright white light.”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, putting his hand on Dean’s knee, and Dean jerked back in alarm. “Safe room.”

“We were taken to this… I don’t know, we weren’t in the corn field anymore,” Ember finished for Dean. “And there were these… aliens, I guess, but it was too bright to see. And we were holding hands, and, we could feel them trying to pull us apart, and pull us to these tables…”

“Probing tables?” Sam asked.

“God, don’t say that out loud!” yelled Dean.

“Maybe,” Ember said, shuddering. “Anyway, so I used all the powers I could muster to shove the tables at them, and Dean yelled ‘Duck’ and stared firing…”

“I started hacking, and slashing, and firing…” Dean laughed. “They actually seemed surprised.” He felt Ember’s presence next to him, and he reached his arm around her and pulled her closer. “I don’t think anybody’s ever done that before.”

“I’m going for a shower,” Ember said, standing up and heading in the direction of the bathroom. 

“I had a close encounter, Sam,” Dean said, taking another sip of whiskey. “And I won. And now, I’m going to join my girlfriend in the shower so that I can get laid.”

“How come you can have sex but you got mad when I had sex with the Hippie Chick?” Sam said in a nonchalantly curious voice.

“Here’s a thought,” Dean said. “Why don’t you go find Patchoulli again? Don’t kill her, and be back by morning. Okay? Wear a condom. I don’t think being soulless prevents pregnancy.” And with that, he slammed the door to the bathroom.

***Ember POV***

November 17, Evening

When Ember came to the hotel after work the next evening, Dean and Sam were busy going over lore. Ember’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the microwave, which was open and covered in a substance which looked suspiciously like blood.

“What did you guys do, explode a cat in the microwave?”

“You can see it too?” asked Dean.

“Not a cat,” Sam clarified. “A _fairy_.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “Apparently, we got abducted by _fairies._”

Ember split into a big grin. “You know, I love my job, I do. But _God _I miss hunting.” She paused. “Wait, hold on. Are you trying to tell me you exploded Tinkerbell in a microwave?”

***Ember POV***

November 18, Evening

“Ember?” said Dean at the other end of the line.

“Yeah?” Ember was driving to Elwood, IN from work. She had hoped she wouldn’t miss too much of the rest of the boys’ continued hunt for the fairies, but she could tell by Dean’s tone of voice that she already had.

“I’m in jail.” _Wonderful._

“Give me the address, I’ll come see you.” _I’ll come break you out, because I can go invisible. That’s what you really want, otherwise you would’ve called Sam._

“555 Court Street, Elwood, IN.”

“OK, thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

It was another hour before Dean was out of jail, and just as they both got into Ember’s Cruise, a man popped up in their back seat. Ember knew immediately it was one of the fairies. She had seen him a couple of times over the past couple of days, watching her. Sam was battling the leprechaun back at the clockmaker’s home, Ember guessed, and now all of his fairy henchmen were pissed. 

Ember kept driving. Dean took the iron knife Ember had placed in her front seat that morning and stabbed the man in the chest with it. He recovered, though it took a second, and Ember saw Dean dodge a blow and attempt another stab. The man grabbed Dean by the throat, and just as Dean began to lose his breath, the fairy man disappeared.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“I’ll give you this much,” Ember told Sam an hour later. “You’re soulless, but at least you’re effective.”

“Cheers,” Sam said, holding up his glass. Apparently Sam had won his battle against the leprechaun at the last possible second.

“I miss this, you know?” Ember said to the other two. “I love my life, and I love being a therapist, but… I miss this.

“It’ll be even better once Sam gets his soul back,” Ember continued.

“Was I… how was I different before?” Sam asked curiously.

Ember thought a moment. “You cared about things,” she said. “You were… a person. Friendly. Sam… you’re lucky Dean’s your brother, instead of your enemy. Because I’ll be honest with you right now, there’s a fine line between what you are right now and the things you hunt.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully. “I know that.”

Ember nodded. “Good. I miss you, Sam. I miss the _real_ Sam.”


	20. Appointment in Samarra

***Ember POV***

December 9, Night

They had been over it, again and again, for nearly a month now: Should Dean help Sam recover his soul? Did Sam even care about getting his soul back? What would Sam be like if he continued without a soul? Would Dean ultimately have to kill him?

A week ago, Dean had found out for sure that Crowley was unable to break open the cage, which had been their last hope. Ember had almost hoped that Dean would give up and move on after learning this, but both of them had known that he wouldn’t. Truthfully, neither of them liked the idea of Sam’s soul spending an eternity in the cage with Lucifer and Michael, but Ember didn’t see much hope otherwise.

Dean had come up with one last, desperate hope: to ask Death for help retrieving Sam’s soul. He would be using astral projection to be able to speak with Death, which meant he had had to come within a couple of hours of Ember to visit Pamela.

“Please don’t tell me it’s a bad idea,” Dean said as he lay in bed with Ember the night before they attempted the astral projection.

“Dean, you already know it’s a bad idea,” Ember responded. “But we both know you’re going to do it anyway. And I don’t even fault you for this one. I really, honestly don’t know what the best thing to do here is. Part of me thinks it’s a terrible idea, but part of me wishes we’d thought of it a year ago.”

Another part of her wondered if all of this discussion about Sam’s soul was a distraction from what they really needed to be talking about: the fact that Dean hadn’t been home in nearly a month.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The following Saturday morning, Ember and Dean arrived at Bobby’s and discussed their plan with the group at large.

“You _what?”_ Sam asked sharply.

“Just hear me out,” Dean said.

“I heard Cas and Crowley when they said it would either kill me or turn me to Jell-O, Dean, I heard enough!” Sam responded heatedly.

“When Pamela sent me as an astral projection, Death told me he can put up a wall,” responded Dean.

“A wall?”

“Yes, a wall. It would basically mean that you wouldn’t remember Hell.”

“Really?” Sam asked.

“Really.”

“For good?” Sam asked. “Like a cure?”

“No, it’s not a cure…” Dean said. “He said it could last a lifetime.”

Sam understood the implications. It _could _last a lifetime… but it _might _not.

“Great,” Sam said. “You’re playing pretty fast and loose with my life here, don’t you think, Dean?”

“I’m trying to save your life!” Dean exploded.

“Sam,” Ember said. “I know how this works, at least I think I do. It’s… it’s like when people block things out to avoid trauma, that’s all it is. Don’t go through a lot of therapy, or a lot of things that could trigger or resemble Hell, and you should be fine. You can live the rest of your life.”

“It’s my life!” Sam shot back. “It’s my soul, and it sure as hell isn’t your head that’s going to explode when this whole scheme of yours goes sideways!”

Bobby looked between the three of them. “Just curious,” he said, standing up slowly, “I presume Death isn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart. So what’s your half of the deal?”

“I have to wear the ring for a day,” Dean said.

Bobby and Sam looked at him curiously.

“Why the hell would he want you to do that?” asked Bobby.

“To get his rocks off?” Dean asked. “I don’t know, but I’m doing it.”

Sam headed out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“Look,” Sam replied, “I hear you. I just need a minute to wrap my head around it, alright?” 

Dean and Ember gave each other a significant look; neither of them believed him. Sure enough, Sam headed out the door and immediately looked for where Death’s ring had (until that morning) been buried. “Looking for this?” Dean asked.

“Just taking a walk,” Sam replied.

Ember looked at Dean again, raising her eyebrows. “Sam,” he said, “I’m your brother. I’m not gonna let you get hurt. I know what I’m doing here.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” Sam asked.

“I won’t let it go wrong,” Dean said.

Sam shook his head, resigned. “Fine,” he said.

“Fine?” Dean asked, while Ember looked between the two brothers. 

“I’m trusting you here,” Sam responded. “Barely.”

“You sure?” asked Dean.

“You’re the one with the compass, right?” Sam asked. “Just don’t mess it up.”

“I won’t,” Dean promised. Then he turned his back on Sam, and as he passed Ember and Bobby, he said in a low voice, “Watch him.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It would be 24 hours until Dean returned, so Ember and Bobby took shifts. There was never any overt agreement, but when Bobby fell asleep on the sofa, Ember drank some coffee to stay awake. She then pretended to be asleep, waited until Sam headed out, and then became invisible and followed him.

Sam ended up in Bobby’s barn. As Ember watched, he began a summoning ritual.

Ember showed herself suddenly, and Sam froze. “Who are you summoning, Sam?”

“Castiel,” Sam replied.

“Bullshit,” said Ember. “Dean told me all we have to do to get Cas to show up is to pretend we have some sort of angel weapon.”

“Fine, you caught me,” Sam said, getting up and dusting off his hands. “I was trying to summon Balthazar.”

“_Balthazar?”_ Ember said, surprised. “The angel? Why?”

“I figured he might know a way to get my soul back, since Cas won’t help.”

“I think we should wait for Dean to get back,” Ember replied, not entirely believing him.

Sam let out a breath, and seemed to be considering something in his head. Finally he said, “Ember, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What do you think’s going to happen to me if I get my soul back?”

“You’ll be a normal, living, breathing human being,” Ember said, and then added, “You’ll be my best friend again.”

Sam looked unmoved, and Ember couldn’t help but feel hurt. She knew Sam had no soul, but she was glad she had stayed home for the past few months; traveling with him like this would truly have broken her heart on a daily basis. 

“Ember, Cas and Crowley and everyone else agree that this is a bad idea,” Sam insisted. “And when _everyone _agrees it’s a bad idea – when even angels and demons agree – you _listen.”_

“So you’re really here to figure out a way to stop what Dean is trying to do.”

“Yes. And if you ever _were_ my best friend, you’ll help me.”

“Sam, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Ember said. “You had a much better chance at getting me to go along with this argument two days ago, before Death offered his ‘anti-trauma’ wall. When it was just a matter of Crowley retrieving the soul and shoving it back in you, you actually had a pretty good chance of getting my help. But like it or not, this plan of Dean’s is the best thing we’ve come up with in a year and a half. So, sorry, but I’m going to have to stop you.”

“I don’t sleep, and you do,” Sam pointed out. He had brought a gun with him, and he fired it at Ember. She had been ready for him, however, and had put up her defenses - the bullet simply bounced off her, and she became invisible again. Bullets, which were made of iron, she could handle; if he came at her with force, however, he was much stronger than her. She would have to stay invisible.

“Not tonight, apparently,” Ember grumbled. It was going to be a long night.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Somewhere around hour 5, Bobby had awoken and managed to shoot Sam in the leg, and Ember had managed to knock him out. They still stood guard, but both were exhausted by the time Dean returned.

“Hi babe, I’m back,” said Dean, looking around at the sorry group. “What the hell happened?”

Ember shrugged. “Turns out Sam likes being soulless,” she said.

“What’d you do?” asked Dean.

“I shot his ass!” said Bobby bluntly.

“It’s barely been 12 hours,” Ember pointed out. “What happened?”

Dean looked down, ashamed. “I had to kill a 12-year-old.”

Ember went to his side and hugged him. As much as she had been annoyed with him lately, at times like these she remembered exactly why she loved him so much.

“What are we going to do?” she asked him silently.

Currently Sam was in the panic room, unconscious, tied to both ends of a table. Dean looked through the bars in the door, and Ember could feel the desperation radiating from him. “I can’t keep doing this,” he said. “What are we going to do, tie him up every time he tries to kill someone? That’s not gonna hold him, he’s-…”

“Capable of anything,” Bobby finished, and Ember nodded.

“What am I supposed to do here?”

“I don’t know,” Bobby said.

Ember detangled herself from Dean and looked up at him. “Well, I, for one, am starving. Dean, is there any chance you can grab us something from the kitchen?”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said, and disappeared.

Nearly four minutes later, Dean had not returned.

“How long does it take to heat up some pork chops,” Bobby said irritably.

Ember sighed, rising slowly. She had been hoping to eat and get some sleep. “I’ll go find him. He’s probably drowing himself in whiskey.” 

When she approached the kitchen, however, she could hear voices. One, she recognized with a jolt of her heart, was Death himself. “…But now, I’m going to go to Hell to get your brother’s soul.”

Ember’s heart jumped. What had Dean done? Had he made a deal of some sort? Ember turned invisible, and waited out of sight just around the corner just in case.

“Why would you do that for me?” Dean asked. _Well_, Ember thought, _It doesn’t sound like he’s made a deal._

“I wouldn’t do it for you,” Death answered. “You and your brother keep coming back. You’re an affront to the balance of the universe, and you cause disruption on a global scale.”

Ember had to lean closer to hear, but she thought she heard Dean mumble an apology.

“But you have use,” Death said. “Right now, you’re digging at something. The intrepid detective. I want you to keep digging, Dean. And you, too, out in the hallway.” Ember jumped. Realizing she had been made, she slowly became visible and walked into the kitchen to face Death.

“It’s about the souls,” Death said. “Both of you have a very big part to play ahead. You’ll understand when you need to.”

Ember and Dean looked at each other, concerned. “Wait,” said Dean. “With Sam… is this wall thing really going to work?”

“Call it 75 percent,” said Death, and he was gone.

Ember and Dean took one scared look at each other, then at once raced back to the panic room.

***Castiel POV***

December 13, Morning

Castiel was halfway through recruitment of a dozen new angels to their cause when he heard Dean’s prayer: “Please Cas, damn it, show up for once. Don’t make me make up a damn weapon to lure you here with. Sam’s got his soul back. But he won’t wake up.”

Castiel thought of several choice swear words in Enochian, but he made his excuses and headed in the direction of the prayers.

Almost immediately, he ran into Ember. He didn’t have a second to respond before she flung herself at him. “Cas!” she cried, hugging him. “It’s been so long!”

Cas tried to remember the last time he had seen Ember. Had it really been over a year and a half now? It had been before the Apocalypse, when she had sent him flying across the room. 

She was too close, he thought. One sight of her, one sniff, and everything else – the war, Sam’s soul, Raphael – everything flew out of his head. All he could think about was throwing her against the wall and kissing her, like he had a week or so before with the demon called Meg. _Damn_ her demon (and angel) attraction powers!

He extricated himself from her. “I don’t understand,” he said calmly. “The Apocalypse is over, and Lucifer is locked up again. Why is your demon and angel attraction still so strong?”

Ember and Dean both looked at him strangely. “It’s… not,” Ember said. She stuck her hand out and tried to move him, but he barely felt it. “That’s… that’s my full power, now.”

Castiel tilted his head. “That’s odd, then.”

“Cas!” Dean interrupted. “My brother!”

“What have you done, Dean?”

Dean explained what had occurred with Death, while Castiel felt Sam’s soul.

“Well?” Dean asked, after his explanation and Castiel’s investigation were over.

“His soul is in place,” Castiel said, rolling up his sleeve.

“Is he ever gonna wake up?” asked Dean.

Castiel was angry now. Sam’s soul had been so weak and tortured. It should never have been put back into the body. “I’m not a human doctor, Dean.” _You better hope he never wakes._

“Could you take a guess?” snapped Dean.

“Okay,” Castiel said, turning to face him. “Probably not.”

“Oh, well, don’t sugarcoat it,” Dean said sarcastically. Ember put her arm around him.

“I’m sorry Dean, but I warned you not to put that thing back inside of him,” Castiel said, his anger surging again.

“What was I supposed to do?” asked Dean. “Let T-1000 walk around? Hope he doesn’t open fire?”

“Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it,” said Castiel. “Like it had been skinned alive, Dean.” Dean gulped. “If you wanted to kill your brother, you should’ve done it outright,” Castiel finished. And with one last look at Ember, he was gone.

***Dean POV***

December 13, Afternoon

Dean sat down in front of Bobby, at his desk. “Sam still asleep?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

“He’ll wake up,” Bobby said.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

“Dean,” Ember said, coming over to him. “It had to be done, what you did. I honestly believe that. Even if he never wakes up, at least Cas says he’s peaceful. At least he’s out of the pit.”

She was right, and Dean knew it. He would keep fighting… it couldn’t be worse than where he was before, no matter what Castiel said.

“Dean?” said a voice from the other side of the room, and all three heads swiveled at once. Sam walked with the heir of someone who wasn’t quite sure how they had ended up where they were.

“Sam?” Dean felt similarly disbelieving.

At once, Dean and Sam moved toward each other, and Dean caught the larger man in a hug. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Ember and Bobby looking wary. He knew that, like him, they were still not sure what to expect.

Sam moved toward Ember, hugging her for all she was worth. “Ember,” he said, holding her close. Ember looked at Dean curiously, and Dean shrugged.

Sam hugged Bobby next, who also looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “Good to see you,” he said. He moved back. “Wait, I saw you – I _felt_ Lucifer snap your neck!”

Ember looked at Dean. Bobby said, “Well, Cas kind of-…”

“Cas is alive?” Sam said, his eyes growing wide.

“Yeah, Cas is fine,” Dean said. He was beginning to feel a huge sense of relief. _It’s going to be okay_, he thought. _He doesn’t remember anything…_ “Sam, are you okay?”

Sam still looked disbelieving as he looked around at the group. “Actually, um… I’m starving.”

As soon as Sam was settled at the table with a beer and a sandwich, Dean asked him, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Sam took a moment to answer. “The field,” he said, “And then I fell.”

_It’s over_, Dean thought. _He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t need to know about being soulless. It’ll be better if he doesn’t know everything that happened while he was gone._

“Okay, and then?” Dean asked, just to make sure.

“I woke up in the panic room,” Sam said, referring to earlier that day.

“That’s it?” said Bobby. “You really don’t remember-…”

“Let’s be glad,” Dean said, cutting Bobby off. “Who wants to remember all that Hell?”

“How long was I gone?” Sam asked.

“About a year and a half,” Dean answered.

“_What?_” Sam said, clearly startled. “I was downstairs… I don’t remember anything. So how’d I get back? Was it Cas?”

Dean and Ember shared a significant glance. Dean knew Ember wanted him to tell Sam the truth. “Not exactly,” said Dean.

Sam glared at his brother. “Dean, what did you do?”

Dean put his beer bottle down, backed into a corner. He had to tell his brother _something_. “Me and Death-…”

_“Death?”_ Sam exclaimed. “The _Horseman?”_

“I had leverage,” Dean protested. “It’s done.”

Dean saw Sam look at Ember for confirmation, and she nodded. “It’s done.”

“You sure?” asked Sam.

“It’s over,” said Dean. “Slate’s wiped.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Well, isn’t this just neat and clean?” he said sarcastically.

“Yes, it is for once,” Dean said firmly.

Sam looked suspicious. “Is there anything else I should know?” he asked.

Dean could feel Ember and Bobby glaring daggers at him. “No,” he said, shaking his head and doing his best to look sincere. “Another beer?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam said.

Dean got up to get Sam another beer, and he was not surprised to feel Ember smack him on his head as soon as Sam had turned his back. “Moron!” she muttered at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I knew there was a reason Ember saved Pamela early on! That way I didn't have to explain the complicated stuff Dean actually went through in the series at the beginning of this chapter.


	21. Mommy Dearest

***Ember POV***

Winter

Over the following three months, Ember’s relationship with Dean was much more stable. He was more likely to call or text her at least once daily (sometimes even multiple times), and more likely to visit every couple of weeks. He, Sam, and Ember even stayed at Bobby’s for a week between Christmas and New Years’, and had a beautiful time ringing in the new year.

Having Sam back was a wonderful refresher on a relationship that might otherwise have gone sour. Ember had her best friend back for the first time in a year and a half. Ember told Sam everything that had happened in the year he had been gone (or, at least, everything that didn’t include him). When Dean called or texted her, Sam would often want to speak with her as well. Ember and Dean would sext, send nude pictures, and discuss when one of them could visit next, while Ember and Sam would swap stories, reference inside jokes, and make fun of Dean.

Sam knew, of course, that Ember and Dean were keeping a secret from him. He would ask Ember, occasionally, but Ember would remind him how long she kept the fact that he had been drinking demon blood a secret from Dean.

“That’s not fair!” Sam exclaimed. “You always said it was horrible of me to keep that secret, and harmful to the relationship between Dean and I!”

“It was,” said Ember. “And this is too, but it’s much less so. He didn’t do anything dangerous. I’m sorry, Sam, I told you the whole demon blood thing was gonna bite you in the ass.”

Sam would grumble, but he respected her wishes, and he knew he’d earned her silence.

Finally, after a case involving dragons and virgins in February, Sam figured out everything. Dean, Sam, and Ember had met up at Bobby’s for Valentine’s Day weekend when Sam approached Ember to discuss the matter. He sat down at the other end of one of Bobby’s tiny sofas, and Ember knew this meant he wanted to talk.

“You actually let him get by with giving you that, then?” Sam asked, gesturing to the gold bracelet around Ember’s arm.

“Yeah,” Ember said. “Normally I won’t let him get me expensive things unless he earns the money on the level,” said Ember, “but I suppose I can’t fault him for keeping a dragon’s plunder.” She smiled. “And normally I don’t wear gold jewelry, only silver, but…” she smiled. “It is _real _gold, after all.”

Sam nodded, smiling, and Ember looked up at him curiously.

“Ember… Castiel told me everything,” he said softly.

She looked at him in surprise, then rolled her eyes. “_Fin_ally,” she said.

“You could have just told me,” he pointed out.

“I don’t get in between the Winchester brothers when one of them is being an idiot,” she pointed out. “That’s my rule.”

“It’s a stupid rule. You should _always_ get in between us when one of us is being an idiot,” he said.

She smiled. “Well, maybe I’ll have to make a new rule, then.”

Sam leaned over onto his arms. “Ember, I am so, _so _sorry-…”

“Sam, it’s not necessary,” said Ember. “I’m just glad you’re back.”

***Ember POV***

April 29, Night

Ember had thought, for a few wild, hopeful seconds, that maybe when Sam got his soul back, Dean would stop hunting. She never would’ve admitted to Dean that she had hoped for this, because the more time went on, the more ashamed she was to have even hoped for it.

It had been more than six months now since a soulless Sam had recruited Dean to hunt again. Back in February, the case with the dragons and the virgins had revealed that the “Mother of All”, Eve, had been released from Purgatory and was making more monsters. Sam and Dean had been working non-stop since then, and rarely stopped to see Ember for more than a few hours on their way through town. The few times that Ember had been able to spend an entire night with Dean had been at Bobby’s, where she had taken a plane to meet the brothers while they pored over lore or discussed a case.

Ember had long ago stopped calling the home she had made with Dean “their home” and at some point reverted to “my home”. Dean, similarly, had stopped calling it “home” and started calling it “Ember’s place.” And, though he cut down on his drinking while he was around Ember, she wasn’t stupid – she knew he was drinking even more now than he had been during the Apocalypse.

Ember knew better, by now, than to hope that Dean would ever slow down. She knew he was a hunter, and would always be a hunter. She often wondered if she could do better, but it also occurred to her that she was half-demon, and so perhaps having a hunter as a boyfriend was the gold standard. Still, she felt he could take a break for more than just “let’s do lunch on my way to Ohio” or “if you want to meet up at Bobby’s, we’ve got some down time to look through the lore.” As a result, they were arguing a lot more, and Dean was calling even less frequently.

In the midst of all this, however, Ember reminded Dean that she still _did_ like to hunt, and, frankly, was due for a vacation from work. (Though hunting was a livelihood for Dean, it was more of a vacation for her.) Because of this, Ember asked Dean and Sam (and prayed to Castiel, just to be sure) to call her when they finally located, and were prepared for a showdown with, Eve, the “Mother of All.”

It took awhile to actually locate Eve, but the five of them (Dean, Sam, Ember, Bobby, and Castiel) found her trail easy enough to follow once they had traced her to Grants Pass, Oregon. She seemed to be on the path to creating some sort of hybrid monster, made of a combination of werewolves, vampires, and wraiths. (Dean called them “Jefferson Starships”.) The new hybrid didn’t seem to be a finished product yet, however, and everywhere Eve went she seemed to leave behind a gooey, dead mess of Jefferson Starships.

Dean and Ember did find two children, however, that had been orphaned during the chaos. It was definitely the highlight of the trip for Ember. Little Ryan didn’t speak, but his older brother, Joe, was smart, intelligent, and protective. Ember and Dean dropped the two boys off with their uncle on the outside of town. Dean caught Ember’s faraway look on the way out of the uncles’ home. “Someday it’ll happen to us,” he said, pulling her close in the front seat of the Impala. “This job leaves behind plenty of orphans. Someday we’ll take some for ourselves.” And Ember felt better than she had in months.

It wasn’t destined to last, however. As it turned out, Ryan had been a Jefferson Starship after all. By the time Ember and Dean figured it out, both Ryan and Joe had been shot by demons. Ember had been lucky, she reflected now, in not having to kill any children in her previous adventures with the boys. There had been a few dead children along the way, but none that she or Dean had killed, and none that she had ever seen alive. She knew she would never forget little Ryan’s face, his cold eyes and bloody mouth staring up at her.

It should have been a happy night. Ember and Dean were in the same bed for the first time in what must’ve been weeks, and Dean had even managed to narrowly kill Eve. (He had tricked her into biting him, not knowing that he had swallowed phoenix ash, which was lethal to her.) Ember should have been celebrating with Dean, but instead she just felt hollow.

***Dean POV***

May 18, Afternoon

If Dean was honest with himself (which, again, he normally wasn’t) he had known for some time that it was over between him and Ember. Maybe he had known it all the way back since he had gone hunting again with Sam. Perhaps he had known it since the vampire issue. For sure he had known it since the end of their most recent case; the sight of her face as she looked at little Ryan, dead and bloodied on the floor, would stay with him forever.

He remembered telling Ember once that the three of them (him, Sam, and Ember) kept each other human, but he was starting to wonder if perhaps _she_ kept _him_ human. He wasn’t sure entirely what he did for her, other than consistently disappoint her and put her life in danger. He wasn’t stupid - he knew she wanted a family, and he very much doubted that he would ever be able to give her that. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to.

It was selfish, therefore, to stay in a relationship that was doomed, and one that made them both miserable. It was selfish, but truthfully it was more than he could bear to make the final move toward a break-up. Castiel had already betrayed him, he had learned in early May. On top of that, the thought of breaking up with Ember made him want to curl up at Bobby’s and sleep for a week, and he couldn’t afford to do so.

Still, Dean and Ember argued constantly. They even argued about Castiel’s betrayal. “Dean, you have to look at this from his point of view,” Ember said. “He began a Civil War in Heaven to fight against Raphael, because Raphael wanted to restart the apocalypse. Without him standing up for you, and Sam, and free will, we could’ve all been dead and gone by now!”

“I _get _that,” Dean said irritably, “But he could’ve _told _me what was going on, instead of letting us think he had killed Crowley!”

“_Dean,”_ Ember said irritably, and he already knew what was coming. _“You _do crap like that _all the time._ Like with your time in Hell, and with the vampire issue, and with _Sam not having a soul_… I mean, God forbid you tell people the things they _need to know._” 

_“If you feel that way, why are we even still together?” _Dean felt like asking. But he didn’t; instead, he just said, “Look, I’ve got a long night of lore ahead of me, and I know you need to go to bed.”

“Dean-…”

“I love you, okay?”

There was a pause, then, “I love you too, Dean.”

When Dean hung up the phone, he realized that Bobby was giving him the stink-eye. “Something you want to talk about, son?” he said from his desk.

“Not really,” said Dean.

Thankfully, Bobby shrugged and let the subject drop.

***Ember POV***

May 18, Evening

“Dad… do you think we should break up?” Ember asked over the phone. 

She heard Bobby sigh on the other end of the phone, and heard him mutter something about “girl feelings.” Finally, he said, “Ember, I love him like a son, I do. But you also know how I feel about you hunting, much as I don’t practice what I preach.”

Ember paused. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Ember, you were _out_, and he was _out, _and now he’s back in! Last thing I want is you getting back in, too. ‘Sides, you two are makin’ each other miserable.”

“So you think we should break up?” 

“Why’re you askin me this?” Bobby said irritably. “You’re a grown woman, and he’s a grown man. Both of you’re gone from my house too much for me to choose sides. Known you both for years before you hooked up, and I’ll know you both for years if you call it quits.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ember said slowly. “That was very… diplomatic of you.”

“No problem. Now don’t ask me questions like that.”


	22. Let it Bleed

***Dean POV***

May 20, Afternoon

Dean knew something was wrong immediately when Ember called in the afternoon. She never called in the afternoon; she was the only person he knew, other than Sam, that was as dedicated to her job as he was to his.

When he picked up the phone, there was static on the other line, however. “Ember!” he shouted frantically. “Ember!”

“Hello Dean,” said Crowley’s voice, and Dean’s blood ran cold with fear. “Fancy a chat? God, how long has it been, Dean? Since my so-called demise, yes.”

“Crowley, let her go, now,” Dean said.

“Let them go?” Crowley asked, and Dean wondered who “them” was. “Do you know how long it took me to _catch_ Ember in the first place? It’s been coming up on two weeks now! You’ve taught her well, Dean. She goes invisible in the car, and she’s salted her work and her home… I had to come _myself_. _And _I _still _had to wait until she was taking a walk with a client.”

_Well_, Dean thought, _I guess that explained the “them” part of Crowley’s explanation_. “If you touch her, I’ll-…”

“Please, Dean, I’m the King of Hell, I’m not one of those heathen lowlifes,” Crowley said.

“You give her back, or I swear, I’ll-…” Dean started again.

Crowley cut him off. “Right. Right. You’ll rip me a cornucopia of orifices. Let’s get to the bit where I tell you how this goes. Your chocolate’s been in my peanut butter for far too long.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Dean threatened.

“Oh, Dean. Ever the wit. I’ve got your half-demon, half-human, really quite _fascinating _girlfriend, and I’m keeping her until I’m satisfied that you’ve _backed the hell off!”_

“I’m telling you,” said Dean. “Last chance to let them go easy.” He could feel the cold fury rising.

“You’re adorable when you get all threatening,” said Crowley. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt them. I won’t even _touch_ her. Provided you and Jolly Green stand down. Got it? Splended. Kisses.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Balthazar was completely unhelpful, and Dean refused to call Castiel.

“We’re not calling Cas,” Dean insisted when Sam suggested it. Castiel was probably “in” on the whole plot anyway.

“Yeah, but Dean-…”

“We’re not calling Cas!” he repeated, his anger for the angel still burning through his veins.

Twenty-seven hours, eight bottles of whiskey, three dead demons, and 0 hours of sleep later, however, he still had no leads on Ember’s whereabouts. Unfortunately, he was so angry that he wasn’t fully paying attention, and the fourth demon Dean forced into the torture chair managed to rub off part of the Devil’s Trap with his foot during all of his kicking and screaming. Suddenly, Dean was hurled across the room and held by his throat.

And then Castiel was there, saving him, yet again.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Dean told the angel when he could talk again.

“Well, regardless, you’re welcome,” said Castiel.

“Why are you here?” Dean asked.

“I had no idea Crowley would take Ember,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, right,” Dean said, anger flaring again.

“You don’t believe me,” Castiel said. It was a statement, not a question.

“I don’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth,” Dean snapped.

“I thought you said that we were like family,” Castiel protested in his low voice. “Well, I think that too. Shouldn’t trust run both ways?”

“Cas, I just can’t,” Dean said. The fact that it _was _Castiel was the only reason Dean hadn’t gone for his angel blade and started fighting, considering how angry he was. (That, and the fact that Castiel had gotten him said angel blade in the first place.) But the “like family” excuse would only last so long.

“Dean, I do everything you ask,” the angel pleaded. “I always come when you call. And I am your friend. Still, despite your lack of faith in me, and now your threats, I just saved you, yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you? All I ask is this one thing.”

_In league with Crowley. He’s in league with Crowley. The whole time. Maybe he even let Eve out of Purgatory. I’ll bet he did, _thought Dean. Ember’s face rose in his mind again, and little Ryan, dead on the floor, and the rooms full of Jefferson Starships, bloodied and gooey. And _Castiel_ had raised Sam from Hell, Dean had found out the other day. “Trust your plan to pop Purgatory?” Dean asked.

“I’ve earned that, Dean,” Castiel said, and Dean’s anger rose even higher.

“I came to tell you that I will find Ember,” said Castiel. “And I will bring her back. Just stand behind me the _one _time I ask.”

“You’re asking me to stand down?” Dean asked. _You’ve kidnapped my girlfriend, and you’re asking me to stand behind you? _ Dean thought. _While you let out all of the monsters which have made her life hell, have made _my_ life hell…_

“Dean-…”

“That’s the same damn ransom note that Crowley handed me,” Dean shot back at Castiel. “You know that, right? Well, no thanks. I’ll find them myself. _Both _of them. In fact, why don’t you go back to Crowley and tell him I said that you could both kiss my ass.”

And then Castiel was gone.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It had been nearly 36 hours by the time Dean found Ember, on a tip from Balthazar, who had come through after all. Ember was being kept in a cage in a very small building in Los Vegas. With her was a boy with black hair who looked about 12. He was tall and lanky. 

“Dean!” Ember exclaimed. “Thank God! It’s about time you got here,” Ember said. “I’m bored as hell. You know it’s been two _days_, right?”

Dean ran to the cage and began to pick the lock. 

“Get me out of here!” she exclaimed. “I’ve tried the lock, but the bars are too strong. Can you believe they put me in a damn _cage?_ But really, it’s to protect _me _from _them._ Crowley needed me as leverage, but I don’t think he wanted to piss you, Sam, or Castiel off _that _much.”

Dean was relieved to hear the news. Just as Dean had almost finished the lock, he realized suddenly that the boy had a knife. “Ember!” he screamed. But it was too late, and Ember hadn’t been watching. The demon boy plunged the knife straight into Ember’s chest.

Ember wobbled, shocked. “Zee?” she asked the boy, sounding weak. 

The boy, Zee, raised the knife again, and screamed, “That was for the Apocalypse!” Dean broke into the cage at that moment and grabbed it away from him, and began the exorcism. If he let another of her clients die, he knew, she would _never _forgive him. Fortunately Ember helped him, at that moment, by falling directly on Zee and trapping him between the bars. The iron made him weaker than he normally would have been, and before Dean could complete the exorcism the demon had left Zee in a cloud of black smoke.

“Ember!” Zee screamed, running toward Ember.

Dean tried to call Sam, but there was no answer. “Put pressure on that, okay?” he asked, giving Zee a cloth. Ember was still conscious, and obviously in horrible pain, and bleeding, and Dean was panicked. “Zee, we gotta get her out of here.”

Zee, Dean noticed, was focused and on top of things. He tried to pick Ember up, but couldn’t lift her, and Dean caught her before she fell. “I’ve got her,” he told the boy. “Grab my duffel bag, and find the salt gun. Have you ever used a gun before?” Ember could kill him later for having one of her clients use a gun, he decided.

“Yeah,” the boy said, and Dean wondered what horrors he had had to face that had led him to Ember’s treatment.

“If anything comes at us, shoot it,” said Dean.

To the boys’ credit, he was fantastic. He was focused, and he shot everything that came toward them. When Dean managed to get Sam out of a locked room, however, he feared for a second that the boy would refuse to give the gun over. Just as the boy began to turn the gun on Sam, Ember said weakly, “Zee, please,” and the boy reluctantly handed Sam the gun. And finally, they were free, and Ember was bleeding.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember was dying. She was in the hospital, unconscious and peaceful, but Dean knew where things were headed. The stab wound had stabbed through too many vital organs.

Dean had bought Zee food, and told him he had done a great job. He had called Ember’s job, and they had reported that they were sending someone to Vegas to pick Zee up. Apparently, according to the administration at Ember’s job, quite a few of the children had seen Ember and Zee disappear into a van. Dean suspected that what had _really_ been reported was that Ember had _disappeared_, but administration was unwilling to report things that way. 

When Dean attempted to make conversation with Zee, the boy had shut him down. “I don’t know who you are, or who you work with,” he said, “But I know why they kidnapped us. You stay away from Ember, and you stay the hell away from me.”

And then Dean was left with Castiel, who had shown up as soon as Zee had left the room.

“What do you want?” Dean snapped.

“Dean, listen-…”

“What do you want me to say? She’ll be dead by midnight.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said.

“I don’t care,” Dean snapped. “It’s too little, too late.”

“Okay,” Castiel said, fixing Dean with a hard stare. “Well, regardless, I didn’t come for you.”

“Meaning?” Dean asked.

Castiel placed his hand on Ember’s forehead, then looked at Dean once again. “She is my friend, too. Did you really think I’d let her die?” He shook his head. “She’s fine now. She’ll wake soon.”

Dean looked at Ember carefully. Ember looked so helpless, but he was so thankful that she would be alright. Even though he didn’t trust Castiel, somehow he trusted that she would make a full recovery.

“Dean, I said I’m sorry, and I meant it,” Castiel said.

Dean swallowed. He owed Castiel his gratitude, at least, he supposed. “Thank you,” he said slowly. “I wish this changed anything.”

“I know,” Castiel said, “So do I. All else aside, I just wanted to fix what I could. I’ve erased the boy’s memory of this event as well, and returned him back to Ember’s job.”

_Erased his memory?_ Dean thought slowly. Something tugged at his brain.

How long had he and Ember been fighting? And it was always about the same things. It had started out so well, but even back in the beginning he had known that she didn’t hunt for the same reasons that he did. “_You’re only in this because you’ve had no other choice. You never wanted to be a hunter. You did it because it was safer than staying in one place and waiting for the demons to come to you. It was safer for you, and safer for the people you loved.”_

And he had tried so hard. But he had seen the looks that Ember’s mother had given him since he started hunting again. He’d even caught _Bobby_ with a similar protectively resentful glare in his eye. _“You’re supposed to live. Like your mother wants. Like we want. Like Sam wants… My daughter got out. You walked away from the life. And I was so damn grateful, you’ve got no idea!” _

Worst of all was how hard Ember had tried to pretend like she was okay with him continuing to live the lifestyle that hunting required. _“I like hunting, it’s just… not what I want to do on the regular… But Dean, you’ve hunted all your life. You’re good at it. And you miss it, I know you do.”_

Even when Veritas had worked her magic on Ember, Dean had still believed that maybe things could work out. _“I want to get married and have a child with you but you’re never home. I’m not sure we can stay together because I really want a family. And sometimes the decisions you make cause me to wonder if you would be a decent father anyway, because you’re reckless and you don’t think first. You need to stop pushing your anger down. You push it down, and you push it down, and you’re freaking impulsive.” _

The worst part of the situation, Dean now realized, was not their disagreement on whether or not they might ever have a family, or even the fact that Dean was never around. It was the fact that as long as he continued to hunt, he would always put Ember in danger. _“I can only say it so many times. I fucked up. I fucked up, for real. I put you in danger, and I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”_

But he _had _put her in danger again. Just _knowing _him would always put her in danger, with her demon attraction issues, now that her power had gone back to normal. Even knowing _of _him would put her in danger.

“There’s one more thing you can do for me,” he told Castiel.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Dean had planned to say good-bye to Ember one last time. He thought perhaps it would be like a bad movie - she would think she had been in a car accident, and he would pretend to be the man who had hit her.

What he didn’t expect was for Castiel to swish alarmingly down the hallway of the hospital in his direction. “Dean, uh-…”

But Dean would never know what Castiel had been about to say, because Ember stormed out of her hospital room. Her eyes were blazing, and the vending machine next to Dean was rattling of its own accord.

“Did you just ask Cas to _white-wash _my _memory?!”_ Ember asked. She put her hand on her hip where she usually kept her weapon, and, finding only the hospital gown, brandished her fist at Dean instead. “You’re lucky I’m a half-demon and it didn’t work, or Bobby and Sam would’ve kicked your ass into next week!”

Ember turned to Castiel. “Don’t you have demons to fraternize with, or angels to betray, or Heaven to take over or something?” she snapped.

Castiel gave her a hurt look, then disappeared. Dean found himself almost wishing Castiel had stayed, if only to share the wrath of his girlfriend… almost.

“Dean, of all the ridiculous, stupid shit you’ve done, _this_ is the worst. What the hell is _wrong_ with you? What gives you the right to think you have _any_ control over my life or my memories?!?! _Fuck_ you, Dean Winchester. Get out of my life. I never want to see you again. Consider yourself dumped.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Back in the Impala 5 minutes later, he had hoped that Sam would be supportive of his actions.

He was out of luck, however. “Dean, you have pulled some shady crap before, but this has got to be the worst. Whitewashing her memory? Take it from someone who knows-…”

“If you ever mention Ember to me again, I will break your nose,” said Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of think Dean did the right thing in the series, with Lisa. Ember knows how to take care of herself, though, and I think Dean would've probably done the same thing. What do you think? Let me know in your reviews.


	23. Death's Door

***Dean POV***

Summer

Dean talked to Ember again exactly eight times after he had attempted to have her memory removed. The first three were initiated by her, when she was less angry, to have what seemed like endless discussions to process through their relationship and the things that had gone wrong. These three ended up in fights. The fourth and the fifth were to talk about whether or not they could still be friends or at least work cooperatively as hunters if the need arose. The fifth conversation ended up in their worst fight yet. 

The sixth and seventh conversations were Dean’s attempts to update Ember on what was going on in the world of hunting. Castiel, in a last-ditch effort to get Dean and Sam to stand down while he opened Purgatory, had removed the wall blocking Sam from his memories of Hell. Then Castiel had betrayed Crowley, opened Purgatory, and used the souls to declare himself God of the free world.

Overall, the sixth and seventh conversations went fairly well, and so they attempted an eighth conversation, which circled back to their relationship and turned disastrous.

By the middle of June and throughout July, Ember spoke only with Sam and Bobby. Dean knew that one of the two of them spoke to her on an almost daily basis, but fortunately they seemed to do so when he wasn’t around. This was fine with him; he was bitter, and angry, and upset. He had lost his best friend and his girlfriend in the same month, and also managed to wreck the Impala in the debacle with Purgatory. Castiel was apparently slaughtering Ministers in the Lord’s name, and Ember was back to her “apple pie life”, which he would never be a part of. Now, he desired only to fix his beloved Impala and avoid talking to anybody.

Dean was a firm believer in the fact that no matter how bad things are, they could always be worse; yet again, by the end of the summer, the universe had proved him right. At the beginning of August, Castiel sought out the two brothers to assist him in returning the souls he had taken into himself to Purgatory. Though he had secured and stabilized Heaven, it had been at a terrible price.

“Your vessel is melting, you’re going to explode,” Death said when Dean brought him together with Castiel. It was an unsuccessful but informative attempt to bind Death and make him kill Castiel. Castiel had thwarted this attempt on his life quite easily, but Dean had been shocked to see that Castiel was looking very unhealthy regardless. “There are things much older than souls in Purgatory, and you gulped those in too,” Death told Castiel calmly. “Long before God created angel and man, he made the first beasts – the Leviathans.”

Death had been right, but fortunately Castiel was able to send all of the souls he had consumed back to Purgatory – all except for the Leviathans, which held on inside his vessel. He could not contain them, and they exploded his vessel as they burst forth from him into the water supply. His trench coat was the only part of Castiel that Dean ever recovered. And so Dean mourned his friend, even as he cursed him.

Shortly after the Leviathans were set free, a few of them came to Sioux Falls. Dean, Sam, and Bobby only barely managed to escape them, Dean with a broken leg and Bobby with a burned down house. They set up shop instead at Rufus’ old safe house, where they spent the end of August and September as Dean’s leg healed.

Dean’s greatest worry, however, was that by mid-summer it became apparent that Sam was having hallucinations of Lucifer. Dean had known it was too much to hope that Sam had returned from his year in Lucifer’s cage unscathed, but he was disappointed in Sam for not telling him about the hallucinations when they had first started. Because she was a therapist, Sam spent weeks at a time at Ember’s house, which seemed to do him good. Dean wasn’t entirely “in the know” about exactly what Sam and Ember discussed regarding Sam’s hallucinations, but he was hopeful for a good recovery. He knew Sam had even tried medication, and that it had worked for some time. By September, however, Dean found a bottle of pills in the trash can. When he asked Sam about them, he grumbled something about “side effects” and “not helping enough anyway.” Dean knew better than to ask further. He couldn’t really think of a response that Ember would not have classified as “not being sensitive to what Sam is going through right now,” so he simply nodded and resolved to watch his brother a bit more closely.

***Ember POV***

Summer

Ember had tried to stay in contact with Dean, but she realized quickly that it just wasn’t going to work. Perhaps if they gave it time, she thought, she wouldn’t be so ridiculously angry with him. She was angry with him for the obvious reasons – the vampire debacle, and attempting to whitewash her memory. More than anything, however, she was angry with herself that she had wasted nearly three years on a relationship that had been destined to epically explode. She also wondered if perhaps she would always be alone. How many hunters would she find, who knew and understood the lifestyle that she was forced to keep, being half-demon? How many of them would accept her once they found out she _was_ half-demon? How many of them were as good-looking as Dean, and as good at protecting her? Where had this gone so wrong?

The news from Bobby and Sam that Castiel had so utterly betrayed them made things even worse. “Why don’t you try to talk to him?” Bobby asked her one evening on the phone. “You know he was attracted to you. You may be best suited out of all of us.”

“He _wasn’t_ attracted-…”

“Yes he was,” said both Bobby and Sam, who was staying at her house at the time. “And Dean would say the same,” Bobby added, “If you two idgits could be in the same room for five minutes.”

So Ember prayed to Castiel, and asked him to deliver the souls back to Purgatory, but he refused, until long after it was too late. The death of Castiel was a blow to Ember, and she wished she could’ve been there with him when he died. Bobby and the brothers had been right, Ember knew – Castiel _had _always been attracted to her.

Overall, the only halfway good thing about the summer was how much time Sam spent at Ember’s house. Ember often felt that she and Sam were helping each other heal – Sam from his Lucifer hallucinations, and Ember from her break-up with Dean.

Unfortunately, it occurred to her later that perhaps Sam was able to help her far more than she was able to help him. Ember stole a variety of medications to try with him, but after two months they were forced to conclude that the side effects of such medications were almost as bad as the hallucinations themselves. He did, however, overall, report less hallucinations and generally a better demeanor after than before he spent time with her. Perhaps, for now, that was all either of them could hope for.

***Ember POV***

October 29, Evening

“Dad, thank God!” Ember said, finally hearing her father’s voice on the phone. “What the hell is going on? I saw the news-…”

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t had time to chat,” said Bobby. “I’m up to my arms in Leviathan guts, and I’m pretty sure Dean and Sam are in jail. But I wanted you to know-…”

“What?” said Ember frantically.

“Look, some Leviathans copied them and started robbing banks to try to draw them out into the open, and I’m pretty sure they’re having a showdown right now in Iowa. They had to go undercover and switch their phones, but as of an hour ago they were still alive. I’ll give you their new numbers, here… you got pen and paper?”

Ember hurried to grab it and took down the new numbers. During this time, Bobby made a series of loud grunting noises, as though he was moving things around and leaning over.

“What are you doing?” Ember said.

“Told you, I finally figured out how to kill them. Chop their heads off, and keep the heads separate from the body, and also burn them with borax. Got it?”

“Borax? Like in soap?”

“Exactly. Look, I got another call comin’ in, I think it might be Dean. Get some borax, girl.”

“Will do, Dad.”

_Click._

***Ember POV***

November 15

The fall passed quickly. The brothers, and Ember by proxy, had found the Leviathans to be extremely difficult to kill, and as hard to track as demons due to their ability to copy and possess others. Ember’s connection to the Leviathans through the Winchesters meant that Ember could never stay still for long. Unlike with demons, there was no way to “ward off” Leviathans so that she only need fear them while she was between home and work. Therefore, she reluctantly moved out of the house she had once bought with Dean. She wasn’t sure whether or not the Leviathans would be able to see her while she was invisible, but she also didn’t want to find out. She moved to a different apartment every few months, and spent quite a bit of time sleeping, invisible, in a variety of vacant hotel rooms. This style of living got old quickly, but it still provided for more stability than hunting. 

Near the end of October, Ember took an opportunity to join Sam on a hunting case while he and Dean were in a fight. She rarely got to spend time with Sam the way she used to when she was dating Dean, and relished this experience. It turned out to be a routine ghost hunt – a “milk run”, Sam called it – but that was how Ember preferred it.

Ember’s 29th birthday came and went. Sam called to wish her happy birthday, and also to explain that he had gotten married to Becky Rosen, his biggest fan. Suspicious, Ember made immediate plans to come “visit” the happy couple at their house in Delaware the following weekend. Before the weekend arrived, however, Sam called back to explain that Becky had made a deal with a demon, and the marriage had been annulled.

***Dean POV***

November 15

“No. I won’t work with Ember.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” said Bobby on the phone. “I’m just saying, she’s coming up on the weekend anyway to visit Sam in Delaware. It’s been six months since you broke up and five months since you last spoke, and she’d be highly suited for this mission considering-…”

“Yeah, and she’d be highly _not_ suited for this mission considering we _don’t talk_,” Dean snapped.

“You never should’ve let her out of your life, Dean.”

“Are we really going to discuss this? I thought you’d be happier with her _out_ of ‘the life.’”

“I’d be happier with you _both _out of the life. Look, whatever, I’ll find you another hunter.”

“I don’t want another hunter, Bobby, why can’t _you _do it?”

“I’m _busy_. It’s not my fault you won’t take my _other_ suggestion.”

“Ugh,” Dean groaned. “Fine. What’s his name?”

Anything to think about something other than Ember.

***Ember POV***

December 2, Evening

Ember was working late. She was desperate to get out, and it had been a horrible day. It was days like this, she thought, that almost made her want to go back to hunting. _Almost._ At least she had a date to look forward to. Although, admittedly, Ember was sorely tempted to simply go home and go to sleep.

She was just finishing up paperwork when the phone rang. It was Sam’s ringtone. Ember froze. Sam never called this early in the evening. She knew immediately something was wrong.

“Sam?” she said, picking up the phone with trepidation.

“Ember, Bobby’s been shot. He’s – it’s really bad.”

***Dean POV***

December 3, Morning

“Why’d you have to go and call Ember?” Dean snapped at his brother.

Sam gave him a scathing look.

“That was an asshole question, wasn’t it?” Dean asked.

“Asshole question, dude.”

Sam was right, and he knew it, so Dean chose to sit and sulk instead. Bobby was in a coma. Castiel was dead. He had been living with frozen showers and no real bed for weeks, since Bobby’s house burned down. The last thing he wanted, on top of everything else, was to spend however long it took until Bobby got better fighting with his ex-girlfriend.

Bobby’s coma gave him time to think, and he definitely didn’t like thinking. He hadn’t seen Ember in over six months, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He knew she was seeing a guy, too – it had just started a week ago, apparently. Sam and Bobby didn’t know he knew, but he had overheard Sam talking to her about it one time when Sam thought he was asleep. At least, he thought with satisfaction, Sam hadn’t seemed very happy about it.

With the extra time he had to think (and the fact that he steadfastly refused to worry about the fact that Bobby might not recover), Dean churned over scenarios in his mind about what might occur when Ember arrived the following morning. Perhaps she would run into Sam’s arms and they would embrace as friends, with Dean looking on grouchily. Maybe she would bring her new boyfriend with her. _Maybe,_ he thought, she would fall at his feet and say that her life wasn’t the same without him and she desperately wanted him back, hunter or no hunter. He smiled in spite of himself at this thought, though he knew it would never happen.

What he didn’t expect was what actually happened. Ember had no tears, but he could tell she’d been crying. She had circles under her eyes, and her hair clearly hadn’t been washed in at least a day. She was as beautiful as Dean remembered, in jeans and a new t-shirt, her long hair coming out of its ponytail. And she ran straight into his arms and hugged him.

He hadn’t expected it, but he hugged her back, for everything he was worth. It felt good to hold her again, but this was about more than that. When he finally let her go, she stumbled back and looked up at him, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

“Ember, it’s no problem, I-…”

“This has been stupid,” Ember said. “It’s stupid to think we wouldn’t see each other again-… No, you start.”

“Bobby’s in a coma,” was all Dean could say.

“I know,” Ember said. “I… don’t know…”

And she looked so lost that Dean reached out to hug her again. This time, he didn’t let go for a very long time.

***Bobby POV***

December 4, Early Morning

Bobby knew he was dying. He knew the bullet was slowly killing his brain. Reapers didn’t lie – they had no reason to. 

He had gotten to give Sam and Dean the message about the Leviathans. That had been the most important thing, he decided. And he had seen Ember one last time, too. All three of them were together when he had awoken, he remembered that. Ember and Dean must’ve found a way to put their differences aside, at least for his death. Maybe they would get back together. (Probably not, but maybe.) Maybe after they took down the Leviathans, Dean would give up hunting again. (Probably not, but maybe.) Then his death would really be worth something.

Now he had one last memory to experience before he died.

He remembered this night with Sam and Dean vividly. It had been during the Christmas where Lucifer roamed the Earth, and they had taken a break from the lore to simply celebrate all of them still being alive.

“Alright, scoot, Jerkface, show your elders some respect,” Dean said, shoving Sam over.

“You scoot, Asshat,” Sam said, throwing popcorn at him.

“Dad, seriously, get some new sofas,” said Ember, squishing herself in the middle of both of them. Dean looked at her with surprise, and Sam with alarm. Dean shrugged and pulled her onto his lap, and Sam rolled his eyes and threw popcorn at both of them. 

“Movie snacks!” Ember exclaimed, grabbing the plastic bag near her as Sam and Dean took a beer from Bobby.

“Did we get licorice?” Dean asked, reaching around Ember to look in the bag.

“No, we did not get licorice,” Sam said, his mouth full of popcorn. “We got _good _snacks. Licorice is disgusting.”

“What’s _wrong_ with you?” Ember said, directing the question at Dean. “I can’t even kiss you after you eat that stuff.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite understand that, uh, Mr. Peanut-Butter-and-Banana sandwich,” he said to Sam. “And don’t even get me _started _on you,” he said to his girlfriend

“You know what? I stand by that sandwich. Nobody likes licorice. It’s made of dirt!” shouted Sam.

“There you go, see?” Ember said. “I’ll just make out with Sam instead!” And she hopped off of the intimate position she was sitting in on Dean’s lap, and got into a significantly less intimate position on Sam’s knee.

“Hey!” Dean said, pulling her back. “It is a classic movie food! It’s right up there with popcorn! And don’t we have a rule about the two of you ganging up on me?”

“Popcorn? Seriously?” Sam asked. “You’re out of your mind.”

“What do you have against popcorn?” Ember said, giggling.

“Right?!” Dean said. “It’s like little chewy pieces of Heaven!”

Bobby smiled as the three of them faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said before, sorry if the pacing seems too fast at times. If Ember isn't involved and the story stays canon, I try to plow through things and just give a summary of the general story arc. I don't want to skip through too much, though, for people who haven't memorized every bit of Supernatural.


	24. The Born-Again Identity

***Ember POV***

March 22nd, Noon

Bobby was burned in a hunter-style funeral in his old home. Ember felt sure that it was an appropriate rest for him. It was what he would’ve wanted.

“Dean?” Ember asked after the funeral.

“Yeah?”

“I know there’s a lot of history between us, but-…”

“That doesn’t matter now, Ember.”

“Well, exactly. You’re going after Dick Roman, right?”

“Yeah. Obviously.”

“Good. Let me know when you get a lead, okay? Any time, any place. I want in. Promise me you’ll let me know, both of you. After what he did to Bobby… this is personal. _Promise _me.”

And they both had promised.

The following four months were largely uneventful. Ember talked to Sam every few days, and texted with Dean fairly often as well. The three of them even grabbed dinner about once each month, when the brothers happened to be coming through town. 

Ember and Dean seemed to have come to a truce in their united focus against Dick Roman, the leader of the Leviathans, who had shot Bobby. For Ember, like for the brothers, this was personal. The three of them were able to put together that Dick Roman and the Leviathans were buying up land in various places, but everything else was hazy and unconnected at best.

When Ember wasn’t researching Dick Roman, she was working, or moving. She switched apartments monthly, and almost always slept away from home. Even so, she had met two Leviathans, both of which she had sprayed with borax before beheading. One of the Leviathans had taken over her Supervisor at her job. It had made the crucial mistake of attempting to attack her in front of 3 other members of administration, and nearly managed to eat the Deputy Director.

“Look,” Ember told the three other adults in the room. “Here’s the deal. Demons are real. Angels are real. Monsters are real, like vampires and werewolves. Those things are called Leviathans. Jackie’s been dead for days. Sorry.”

“You… you saved us!” said her Deputy Director.

Ember, who was having a panic attack, didn’t have time for this. Her head was far past gratitude and explanations. _I’m going to have to go on the run again, with Dean and Sam. And Dean and I aren’t even dating…_

In the end, though, Ember was given a promotion. Apparently the Deputy Director had some experience with the supernatural herself, and was happy for someone to finally provide her with some explanations. She was also happy to have a resident expert on staff. Ember took the promotion, in return for the Deputy Director “officially” terminating her employment with the company and sending her paychecks and official documentation through a front company. “I get that you want me to stay here to protect you, and I couldn’t be more thrilled,” she explained honestly. “But I need to leave a false trail. I’ve killed one of theirs, now.”

In the end, everything worked out. Ember had hated Jackie anyway, and her relationship with her Deputy Director was much improved. Her new duties as Supervisor, however, were overwhelming, and took up most of her time. She didn’t even have time for dating, and the one brief relationship she had after she and Dean had broken up ended shortly after Bobby’s death. Overall, she was married to her job, and she liked it that way.

Finally, on March 22nd, Ember received a call to change all that.

“Hey, Ember, what hospital do you work at?”

Ember was surprised; Dean very rarely asked about her work, and even when he did, she could tell he was having difficulty caring. Therapy was as boring to him as football was to her. “Uh, Lutheran Memorial, why?”

“Do you guys have an adult ward? I mean, you work with kids, right?”

Ember rolled her eyes. “_Yes,_ Dean, I work with _kids.”_

“Okay, but you’re at least allowed on the adult ward?”

“Yeah, my badge gets me everywhere… what’s going on?”

“It’s Sam,” Dean said. “Lucifer finally got to him. We’re coming to you.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“So what’s your game plan here?” Ember asked Dean later over a cup of coffee at her apartment. It was the first time Dean had been in her apartment, or any of her houses, since they’d broken up, but neither of them were thinking about that.

“What do you mean?” he said, turning the pages of an address book.

“Dean, the hospital can’t help him, you know that.”

“You helped him last time, didn’t you?”

“Not as much as I hoped I could,” Ember admitted. “That’s how I know we can’t help him now. These hallucinations… they barely respond to normal medications. It’s different, because the cause is different. And Dean, you can’t even tell me what’s _wrong _with him,” Ember pointed out scathingly. “I mean, as a Therapist, ‘Lucifer finally cracked him’ is less than helpful.”

Dean looked irritated. “You’re the one who’s always preaching about self-help and emotional intelligence and trauma whatsit whatever,” he snapped.

“Dean, that works with _normal_ people. It even works with really horrible _normal _trauma. But Sam was locked in a cage with _Satan _for over a _century_. You’re gonna need to go supernatural with this.”

“What, like a faith healer? You don’t think I’ve looked?”

“Don’t get irritated with me, Dean. I’ll look around too. All I’m saying is, we can house him with us… keep him safe from himself and others, and all that. But we can’t _help_ him, not really. And he won’t last much longer without sleep… if we don’t come up with something, Sam _will _die.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Three days later, Sam was still wide awake. It had been seven days now, Ember knew, and Dean had found nothing. At the moment, she was off work, invisible, in his room. 

“What’s he doing now?” Ember asked Sam. “Do you want me to keep reading?” She had been reading Harry Potter out loud for the past hour and a half, hoping it would distract Sam from Lucifer. So far, it seemed to be working only partially. He wasn’t asleep, but at least he had a semi-relaxed look on his face and was no longer wincing with pain every few seconds. (Lucifer had been reportedly screaming in his ear with a megaphone.)

“He keeps making sexual comments about Hermione,” Sam groaned. “But if you’re willing, please.” He didn’t open his eyes, though Ember could tell he was still awake.

Suddenly, the shrill ring of Ember’s phone cut through the air.

“Dean? What’d you find?” Ember said, picking up the phone quickly.

“You’re not going to believe it!” Dean said. “It’s… it’s Cas!”

***Castiel POV***

March 26, Night

Emmanuel knew there was something missing. Whole chunks of his life were missing. He had a feeling, however, that he didn’t want to know about the things he couldn’t remember. He liked his life with Daphne. He liked doing God’s work. He was happy.

Since he had met Dean, and the demon Meg, however, this feeling had increased. Why was he so comfortable with this man he barely knew? Why did he trust him when he said that the demon girl was a friend? Why had those two gone off together to talk in hushed voices? And who was this “Cas” that Dean had spoken of, that had betrayed his brother so badly, and why did this name seem so familiar as well?

Quietly, Emmanuel approached Dean and the demon. “You know what he did,” Dean was saying. “And you want to tell him and just hope that he takes it in stride? He could snap, he could… disappear! Who knows?”

Emmanuel had known it, somehow. He had known it all along. “I gather we know each other?”

Dean looked upset, but the demon girl was calm. “Just a dollop,” she said sarcastically.

Emmanuel knew what he had to do. “You can tell me. I’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?” Dean said irritably. “You just met yourself, I’ve known you for years!”

“You’re an angel,” Meg said.

“I’m sorry,” Emmanuel said. “Is that a flirtation?” But there was something so familiar about her words that he knew it wasn’t.

“No, it’s a species,” said the demon. “A very powerful one.”

He knew this. He didn’t even need to look at Dean for confirmation.

“She’s not lying,” Dean said. “Okay? That’s why you heal people, You don’t eat. I’m sure there’s more.”

This explained everything. All of the things that Daphne had said were so very strange about him…

“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” Emmanuel said slowly. It was a lot to process, but he knew there was more still that Dean wasn’t telling him. “Being an angel… it sounds pleasant.”

“It’s not, trust me,” Dean said. “It’s bloody. It’s corrupt. It’s not pleasant.”

“He would know,” the demon said. “You used to fight together. Bestest friends, actually.”

“We’re… friends?” Emmanuel said. And Dean’s face told him everything he needed to know, and he understood. “Am I… Cas?” There was no answer, and he took this as an affirmative. “I… I had no idea. I don’t remember you, I’m sorry.”

“Look… you got the juice,” the demon woman said. “You can smite every demon in that lot.” She gestured to the hospital where Dean’s brother was being kept, which was surrounded by demons in human meatsuits.

He had known this too, somehow, though he didn’t want to admit it. For the first time since he could remember, his life was starting to make sense… and suddenly, he desperately didn’t want it to. “But I don’t remember how,” he said.

“It’s in there,” Dean said, coming closer to him. “I’m sure it’s just like riding a bike.”

“I don’t know how to do that either,” Emmanuel replied frankly. But he looked at Dean, who was so sure of him. “All right, I’ll try,” he said.

And as he smote the demons, he remembered. _“I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition"… “Hey, assbutt!” … “I’m sorry, Dean…”_

The first thing he felt, once the demons were gone, was an overwhelming sense of guilt.

And suddenly, a new feeling came over him, as he was enveloped suddenly in a fierce hug. _Ember._ And he remembered. “_I may be a half-demon, but I’m pretty sure I’m more righteous than you today.”… “Now I understand these feelings I’ve always had for you. For a moment I was scared I was actually attracted to a demon!”_ And, more recently, “_Don’t you have demons to fraternize with, or angels to betray, or Heaven to take over or something?”_

“I remember you,” he told the group fiercely, separating painfully from her hug. He wanted it desperately, he realized, but he didn’t deserve it. “I remember everything. What I did. What I _became_. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because Sam is dying in there,” Dean said.

“Because of me!” Castiel exclaimed. “Everything! All these people! I shouldn’t be here.” And he walked away, because that was all he knew how to do.

“Cas! Cas!” Dean and Ember yelled, chasing after him.

“If you remember, then you know you did the best you could at the time!” Dean yelled after him.

“_Don’t _defend me,” Castiel snapped at Dean. “Do you have any idea the death toll in Heaven? On Earth?” _Hundreds…_ “We didn’t part friends, Dean!”

“So what?” Dean said.

“I _deserved _to die,” he answered shortly. Had that been his plan? Was that where he was going? “I can’t possibly fix it. So why did I even walk out of that river?” _Why am I still here?_

“Maybe to fix it,” said Dean, and Ember nodded, reaching out to hold Castiel’s hand. He flinched back, suddenly scared, and she put her hand in her pocket, shooting him a hurt look. _I can never fix it_.

“Wait,” said Dean. And from the trunk, he pulled out Castiel’s old trench coat. _You saved it? Even though I had betrayed you?_

Castiel couldn’t fix everything he had done. But he’d do what he could to fix Sam.

What he could do, however, was not much. Apparently he’d done too good a job, way back when he was determined to open Purgatory.

“What do you mean you _can’t_?” snapped Dean, and Ember put her head in her hands next to him.

“I mean there’s nothing left to rebuild.”

“Why not?” Dean asked.

“Because it crumbled,” Castiel said. “The pieces got crushed to dust by whatever’s happening inside his head right now.”

“So you’re saying there’s nothing? That he’s gonna be like that until his candle blows out?” Dean asked.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. “This isn’t a problem I can make disappear. And you know that.” _This is my mess_, Castiel thought. _I can take it upon myself… I owe that much to him…_ “But I may be able to shift it,” Castiel told Dean.

“Shift?” said Dean.

“Yeah, it would get Sam back on his feet.” He sat down at Sam’s bedside, flinching at the man’s crazy eyes. “It’s better this way,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Cas?” Ember said, starting forward, but Castiel held up a hand, and she stopped.

“Wait, Cas, what are you doing?” asked Dean.

“Now Sam, this may hurt,” Castiel said, facing the scared man on the bed. “And if I can’t tell you again, I’m sorry I ever did this to you.” Castiel took one long look at Ember and Dean as he took in Sam’s pain. Ember looked scared, and Castiel wondered if she was scared for Sam, or for him. “_I may be a half-demon, but I’m pretty sure I’m more righteous than you today.”…_

After that, all he saw was Lucifer, for a very long time.

***Ember POV***

March 27, Day

“I don’t like it, Dean. Do you understand the margin for error on this plan of yours?” Ember asked.

“Castiel needs someone to stay and watch him 24/7. None of us trust Meg completely, over a long period of time. So, Meg watches Castiel, you watch Meg. Come on, you guys have always gotten along… mostly.” Dean offered a small, hopeful smile.

“When I said she was the only demon I wouldn’t kill on sight, that didn’t mean we _got along,_ Dean,” Ember said derisively. “You do remember she _stabbed Bobby_ three years ago, right?” 

“Look, I don’t like her either,” Dean snapped. “But do you have a better idea?”

Ember sighed. “No, I _don’t _have a better plan. And I know you guys need to get back to Dick.” The three of them shared a short smile about the double entendre. “I’m just voicing my opinion that I don’t like it. And that you two should _visit more often.”_

“We’ll try,” they both promised.


	25. Girl with the D&D Tattoo, There Will Be Blood

***Ember POV***

April 24, Night

Ember answered the phone at 12:57 PM from a dead sleep, but was wide awake within 60 seconds. “What the hell do you mean ‘Bobby’s a ghost!?!?’”

April 27, Morning

Ember fully intended on having a heated heart-to-heart with her father’s ghost once she came in contact with it, but as it turned out, other things took priority. “Don’t bother coming to us, we’re coming to you,” Dean told her the following morning. “We’ll be in Chicago in a few hours. We’ve finally got Dick news.” Ember smiled despite herself at the double entendre. 

“Frank, our computer guy, got eaten, but we got an email that someone is hacking his hard drive in Chicago,” Dean continued. “All the information he collected about the Leviathans will be there.”

“Where in Chicago?” Ember asked suspiciously.

“Roman Enterprises,” Dean said.

Ember rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna need me, aren’t you?”

“You’re sure they can’t see you if you’re invisible?”

“Yeah,” Ember said. “Otherwise I never would’ve gotten the jump on that one in February.”

“Then yeah, we’re gonna need you. You know all those buildings they’ve been building? Bobby says they’re trying to create the perfect food source.”

“_What_?”

“He’s building a bunch of state-of-the-art slaughterhouses, and we’re the beef,” Dean said. “And he’s going to start churning out those turduckens I told you about, or maybe all sorts of food that makes you docile.”

“So the humans won’t be able to put up a fight,” Ember confirmed. “When is this happening?”

“No idea, but Bobby says he’s bought a list of restaurants. Once you start eating that stuff, you get addicted to it. And, get this – they’re curing everything, Bobby says. Cancer. Aids. Everything. They’re engineering the perfect herd.”

“Holy shit!” Ember said, taking it all in. “That’s… everything fits! Everything we’ve been trying to put together! And you got all this from Bobby?”

“Yup,” said Dean. “He got a look at Dick’s files before he passed, but we kept missing each other. He keeps taking ‘ghost naps’, and he can’t control them yet. He says that’s common.”

“I’m gonna tell him exactly what’s ‘common’,” Ember said threateningly. “What the hell is he thinking, becoming a ghost?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Trust me, Sam and I are throwing around the same question. Can you catch us in Chicago after work? I know it’s a drive from Lafayette, but-…”

“I know, it’s commutable,” Ember said. “I might even be able to take part of the day off, if you need me to sneak in there at night, or something.” She gulped.

“Nah, there’s no way anybody’s sneaking into Roman Enterprises, at night or any other time,” Dean said. “We’re gonna try to hook up with the hacker when we get to Chicago this evening, and go from there.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember liked the hacker immediately. Her name was Charlie, and she had a lot of the same interests as Ember. She had a tattoo which was Princess Leia in a bikini straddling a 20-sided die, and she loved Harry Potter. Ember enjoyed talking “nerdy” with her. This annoyed Dean, but it seemed to help calm Charlie, so Ember kept it up.

Charlie was horribly afraid of what the brothers were asking her to do. With Ember as a chaperone, she needed to go into Roman Enterprises and take back the hard drive. The brothers had also asked her to go into Dick Roman’s office, where she could access his private email.

The mission was immediately complicated by the fact that Bobby somehow managed to smuggle the flask that his ghost was tied to into Charlie’s backpack. This was particularly frustrating for Ember, who had yet to see Bobby since coming to Chicago. She understood that the brothers weren’t telling Charlie about Bobby or the flask, as it would just be one more thing to scare the younger girl. She had just found out about Leviathans earlier today – this would be too much to handle.

“Do you want us to come back?” Ember asked the brothers after Dean pointed out the flask, which he had seen remotely from the cameras in the office.

“No, it’s too late, we only have one shot at this,” Dean said. “Charlie, just… look, it’s a family heirloom. It’s a good luck charm, okay, so don’t lose it.”

Ember narrowed her eyes at the flask, but said nothing.

On the top floor, in front of Dick Roman’s office, Ember made some noise in another location, luring the guard away from his position so that Charlie could go into the office. She managed to get the information off of his email, then headed down to her own desk to get the hard drive and the rest of the data.

“Are you seeing this?” she whispered into the headphones while Ember stood guard.

“It looks like Dick stopped digging days ago,” Sam replied.

“Why?” Charlie whispered.

“Guess he found what he was looking for,” Dean answered. “Can you check?”

“Way ahead of you,” Charlie said, scrolling through emails. “Looking at travel reports, expenses… here we go. Something in his suitcase left Iran this week. Spent the last 72 hours in armored cars and private planes. Whatever it is, it’s coming here, for Dick, tonight!”

And so, Sam and Dean set off to claim the package and switch it out with a Borax bomb, and Charlie and Ember set about clearing up the hard drive and leaving the building. Just when they were almost done, Dick came to say hello and ask Charlie how she was doing with the hard drive. Ember panicked. She barely had any Borax – just enough for a quick squirt in an emergency – and she didn’t have any sort of sword on her, because no sword would attach close enough to her body to stay invisible with her clothes. She only had a pocket knife, and that wouldn’t do for beheading. It was best to stay silent.

And then it became cold, and Ember knew that Bobby was with them, and she prayed that her father would keep his cool… but finally, Dick left to go upstairs. Ember knew they had moments. Dick must have received the package he was expecting (or what he thought was the package he was expecting), and was going upstairs, where he would hopefully be greeted by Sam and Dean’s Borax bomb.

Unfortunately, Dick was quicker. Ember heard the giant explosion. Dick called ahead to lock down the doors, just as Ember and Charlie ran up to them. Charlie ran to the doors and shook them; they could see Sam and Dean on the other side. Just as Ember was about to attempt to break the glass on the doors, it broke on its own, and she realized that Bobby had done it.

“Hold on, there, Charlie,” said a voice, and it was Charlie’s boss, who she said had been taken over by another Leviathan. Dick was right behind him. Ember made toward him, giving Charlie time to run, but he flew across the room suddenly, and hit Charlie, trapping her against the wall.

“Bobby!” Ember said angrily. She knew it had been her father throwing him aside to get to Dick. That was why they hadn’t wanted him on this mission… Dick went flying as well, and Ember threw out her arm to finish breaking the glass doors and then scrambled over to help Charlie. Sam and Dean ran through the opening Ember had left in the glass doors. 

Dick started toward all four of them, along with a security guard. “That would explain it,” he said. “You’ve been hanging with the wrong crowd, kiddo.” Ember squirted Charlie’s boss with the tiny bit of Borax she had, and Sam picked up Charlie.

“Not so fast, Dick,” Ember heard Bobby’s voice say, and suddenly she could see him. She barely stopped herself from crying out, “Dad!” because she knew Dick still hadn’t seen her. 

Together, she, Sam, Dean, and Charlie all made for the car. The last they saw of Dick Roman, he was being hurled against a stone decoration. “You gotta do that again! That tickled!”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember hated saying good-bye to Charlie, and she hated even more that Charlie never wanted to speak to them again. She couldn’t say she didn’t understand it, however. She gave Charlie some tips, in case she needed help creating another life.

“We gotta talk,” Sam said, as soon as Charlie had gotten on the bus.

“You _bet_ we do,” Ember said.

“Before we get back to the car,” Dean said, “and the flask.”

“What the hell happened back in the lobby?” Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. “If I had a free shot, I’d have bitch-slapped the hell out of Dick,” Dean said.

“Dean, he threw that man aside and broke Charlie’s arm,” Ember said.

“He didn’t mean to do it,” Dean said.

“Exactly,” said Sam. “He’s not in control, not about Dick. That was vengeful spirit crap.”

“When we were trying to wrap up at the computer, Dick came up to ask Charlie how she was doing,” Ember filled in. Sam and Dean looked shocked.

“Everything was fine, and Charlie was a pro,” Ember continued. “And Dick wasn’t on to us yet, but I could feel it get all cold… I knew he was trying to keep control. But what’s going to happen when he can’t, Dean? Because we both know he can’t keep it up forever… ghosts are a one-way street, you know that.”

“I know,” Dean said, “But it’s still Bobby.”

“But if he really goes there, he won’t be anymore,” Sam said. “And then we won’t be able to pull him back. And then what are we supposed to do?”

“I know,” Dean admitted, and they were all silent for a second. “Look, let’s just figure out what that thing we stole is, and then we’ll figure out what the hell to do with Bobby.”

This seemed like a good plan to Ember.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

At 8:00 the next night, Ember, Sam, and Dean broke open the stolen parcel from Dick, which turned out to be a tablet of some sort, with writing on it. It was almost comical. Dean and Sam both had safety glasses, and when Dean first hammered on the stone surrounding the tablet, a bolt of thunder crashed outside.

“That sound like somebody saying ‘No, wait, stop’ to you?” Dean asked Sam and Ember.

“Uh… yeah,” said Sam and Ember.

The group thought for a minute. “Oh well,” said Dean, and Ember rolled her eyes.

“This is the reason we broke up,” Ember whispered to Sam, who, in turn, rolled his eyes.

Suddenly, as Dean finished cracking open the tablet, an almighty thunderstorm began outside.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Late the next morning, Ember was headed south when she got a call from Dean.

“We’re following you down,” he said. “We’re just about an hour behind you.”

“What? Why? I thought you guys were going back to Rufus’ cabin to hole up?”

“Meg called,” said Sam, who was on speakerphone. “Cas is awake.” 

On the plus side, Castiel was awake, and able to explain to them what was going on. He explained that what they had found was “the handwriting of Metatron… he’s an angel. He’s the scribe of God. He took down dictation when creation was being formed.”

On the minus side, Castiel was unable to read the tablet. “It’s not meant for angels,” he told them. Due to Lucifer’s interference, he was also completely crazy. “Did you know a cat’s penis is sharply barbed along its shaft? I know for a fact that the females were not consulted about that.”

In the end, however, Castiel, Meg, Sam, and Dean ended up leaving the hospital along with Kevin, a prophet who had been drawn to the tablet. The five of them headed for Rufus’ cabin, while Ember switched apartments (yet again) and headed back to work.

“You’ll let me know when you figure out what it says?” Ember asked them.

“Yeah, we’ll let you know as soon as we know anything,” Dean promised.

***Ember POV***

May 12, Day

Ember didn’t see Sam and Dean again for over two weeks. During that time, Castiel and Meg both left Rufus’ cabin for different reasons, and Kevin headed back home with two angels. Fortunately, however, it was not before he had been able to translate the tablet for Sam and Dean.

To send the Leviathans (or, at least, Dick) back to Purgatory, Sam and Dean explained to Ember that they would need “a bone of a righteous mortal washed in three bloods of the fallen,” which apparently meant “blood of a fallen angel, blood of the Ruler of Fallen Humanity, and blood of a Father of Fallen Beasts.” Castiel gave the brothers a bottle of his blood before he left, which took care of the fallen angel. Crowley (the “Ruler of Fallen Humanity”) agreed to provide Sam and Dean with his blood only after they had obtained blood from the other two. Crowley also tipped them off that the Alpha vampire, the only known Father of Fallen Beasts, was currently in Hoople, North Dakota.

Originally, the brothers had turned down Ember’s offer to meet up with them in Hoople, but she ended up heading in that direction anyway. First, she identified when her clients (and then, later in the day, the staff members) had become docile and were beginning to act like what Dean had described.

“It’s in the corn syrup,” Sam explained when he called Ember, who never ate the company food and always brought her lunch from home. “You can’t avoid it in the stores.”

“I guess it finally happened,” she told Sam over the phone. “We knew it would, eventually. I’m bringing all the food I’ve stored in my cabinets, and I’m heading your way. It’s no use staying here, anyway… they won’t even miss me.”

“She says she’s bringing all the food she’s been storing,” Sam repeated to Dean, who was driving.

“Thank God!” Ember heard Dean yell. “Ask her if she saved any pie!”

“I think I may have a pie in here, a frozen one,” Ember said. “It’ll take me a couple of days, though. I’m sure as hell not jumping on a plane with these stoned morons, so I’ll have to drive.”

“The sooner you leave, the better,” Sam said. “In another couple of days, you won’t get by with driving the speed limit anymore. The more time passes, the slower people will drive, and the less people will drive overall. And stay out of Leviathan territory.”

“I know, Sam,” Ember said sarcastically. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It was nearly two days before Ember met the boys in Missoula, Montana, where they had tracked the Alpha vampire to his mansion. “Are you sure you just want to charge in there, machetes blazing?” Sam asked. “Last time it took a dozen hunters to take down the Alpha, and most of them didn’t make it out.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, well, you got a better idea?”

None of them did.

“Ember, are you sure you want to go along with us on this one?” Sam asked.

Ember rolled her eyes. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but practically everyone I know is moving at a snail’s pace,” Ember said. “My affairs have been settled since before the Apocalypse. I know the risks.” She was more scared than she said – it had been a long time since she’d done this. Still, she knew what she had to do. 

They crept slowly up to the door to the mansion – but it was already open. Ember had a syringe full of infected blood with her, and she was invisible, behind the two brothers. “Maybe we’re too late,” Dean said slowly as Sam crept inside. No sooner had he said it, however, than Sam was pulled aside by an unseen hand, and Dean by a separate set of hands. Ember ran to them, ready to shoot the attacking vampires with the infected blood, but she realized that the vampires weren’t attempting to kill Dean and Sam, but to lead them elsewhere. So, Ember followed.

Sam, Dean, their captors, and Ember wound up in a large, open room with high windows. There was a long table in the middle of the room, at the head of which sat a man who fit Dean’s descriptions of the Alpha vampire.

“We’re here to talk. That’s it,” said Sam.

The Alpha vampire laughed. “Now that my guys have taken your blades and your syringes of tainted blood. Is that what you mean?” And then he looked right at Ember. “I can see you too, girl. That’s a nice talent you have there. But you haven’t used your weapon yet… perhaps you _are_ here to talk, then.” He seemed to consider a moment. “I suppose even if you _were _just here to talk, bringing along weapons is only smart.”

Ember still didn’t show herself. The Alpha vampire might not seem inclined to attack unless she attacked first, but she doubted she could say the same for his two cronies, who were sniffing the air in vain. She had worn a blend of scents – she wasn’t stupid.

“Well, we figured you might hold a grudge,” said Dean to the Alpha, who was still eyeing Ember. She eyed him back, then broke eye contact in deference, and he smiled, nodding.

“And why would I?” said the Alpha, turning his gaze back to Sam and Dean. “Because you captured me, tortured me, sold me to the King of Hell?”

“That was more our Grandpa,” Dean said fairly, and one of the other vampires in the room shoved him forward, causing him to hit his head on the table. Ember jumped forward, and the Alpha vampire stood up from his chair threateningly, but then everyone stopped. The tension resumed.

“I’m going to peel off your faces and drink you slowly,” the Alpha said. Ember knew he would at least listen to their pleas, however; he would have already disposed of them otherwise.

“Just listen,” Sam said, obviously thinking along the same lines. “You _need _us!”

“Oh, yes,” the Alpha said. “I am _thirsty._”

“The plague!” Sam yelled. “We know what it is! What do you know about Leviathan?”

The Alpha stopped, and smiled slowly. “A bit,” he said, non-committally. Still entertaining them, then.

“You know they’re poisoning the food supply?” Sam asked.

“Roman didn’t mention that when we met for dinner last fall,” the Alpha said. This surprised Ember, and she knew that the Alpha, at least, could see this on her face. “We made lots of plans. We are on excellent terms, he and I.”

“You sure about that?” Dean asked. “Did he mention he was going to, uh… Maui Wowie the human population?” The Alpha had glanced at Ember, and she knew that all three vampires and all of the humans in the room were scoping out possible exit strategies. She had two syringes, one in either hand, which was enough to take down two of the vampires who couldn’t pinpoint her exact location.

“Oh, of course,” the Alpha said. “He said grabbing a snack would be easier than ever.”

“He said you’d all live together, didn’t he?” Sam said, as Ember came to the same realization. “You really believe him? You think your children are dying by accident? There is pesticide in the formula!” As he said this, Ember held up one of the syringes, pointing at it. _It’s not vampire blood… it’s human blood._ She knew he would get the message.

“It suits you to think so,” the Alpha vampire said. “You need me on your side.” But he took a long look at the syringe in Ember’s hand as he said it.

“Look, we’re not the ones burning from the inside out,” said Sam. “Think about it, whatever deal he made with you was crap! Trust us!”

“Why are you telling me this?” asked the Alpha. Ember smiled ruefully. She supposed he hadn’t survived this long being stupid.

“Because we can stop Dick,” Sam said emphatically. “Stop all of it, we just… we need your blood – for the weapon.”

The Alpha chuckled again. “So now you want to prevent the extermination of the vampire race?”

“No,” Dean said, looking seriously at the Alpha. “But it beats going down with you.”

The vampire looked as though he might be considering this, but was interrupted by a young boy. Ember knew the Alpha kept virgins to supply him with virgin blood – this must have been one of them. The young boy informed him that Edgar was here. Ember looked at Dean, before remembering that he couldn’t see her. Dean and Sam were shooting each other similar meaningful looks, however. This could either be very good, or very bad.

“Wow, what a funny coincidence,” Dean said. “Alright, we need soap, cleanser, anything with Borax in it. We need knives.”

“Put them in the study,” the Alpha said. 

“No, wait,” said Sam.

“Word of advice, boys,” said the Alpha. “You do not live through centuries of fire and ice and continental divide by jumping to conclusions.” He was speaking to the brothers, but he was looking at Ember. She understood – she was to follow them, if she wanted them left alive. He would consider Sam’s words.

“Why didn’t you do something?” Dean yelled at her when they were all alone in the study.

“And get us all killed?” Ember snapped. “It was three of them, including the Alpha, against three of us, and we’d lost all of the element of surprise except mine. And he’s considering our words, Dean. We need to regroup and think of another plan.”

“Ember’s right,” Sam said. 

“Any way out of here?” asked Dean, who was looking for a way to get back through the doors.

“Nothing,” Sam confirmed from the windows. “Do you think Edgar’s here for the same reason we are?” Sam asked. “I mean, if they figured out that we’re here to get Alpha blood for a weapon…”

“I think any way you slice it, you got Pac Man and True Blood in the same room, and that’s bad news,” Dean said. “I mean, he’s not stupid, why the hell do you think he locked us in here?”

“Dean, we’re his enemy,” Sam said. “I mean, they’re like… monster cousins or something. Who would you give the benefit of the doubt to?”

“Edgar will have to answer to what we said,” Ember reminded the brothers. “The Alpha would be stupid not to ask him about it, and it’s a little too late for him to lie. If we’re lucky, they’ll come to blows.”

“But maybe the Leviathans are poisoning the vamps on accident. Maybe they’ll fix it,” Sam said.

“I think you got the oldest monster on Earth thinking that he can hold his own because he always _has_,” Dean said. 

“Edgar’s gonna eat him alive,” said Sam.

“I’m not so sure about that,” mumbled Ember, shaking her head. They were silent for a moment.

“Hey,” Dean said, picking up the needle to an IV nearby. “Think we can pick a lock with this?”

“But we only have Vamptonite for two of us,” Sam said.

“Do we?” Dean asked, lifting up his pantleg. In his sock, he had stored an extra syringe.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Dean, Ember, and Sam all managed to stab a variety of different vampires with the Vamptonite on their way through the mansion. They could hear snarls and yells from the large room they had been in earlier. “Guess the Alpha found out what the _real_ plan was,” Dean grumbled. They entered the large room just as Edgar was about to eat the Alpha vampire, but Ember ran up and beheaded the Leviathan first.

“Grab a glass, we’re juicing this freak,” Dean said, but one of the female virgins, the one who had led Sam and Dean to the Alpha in the first place, yelled, “No!”

“Stay back!” said Dean, but the Alpha vampire threw him backward.

“Leave her alone,” the Alpha said. “She’s been through quite enough.”

“Now that’s rich, coming from the guy who took her off the swing-set!” yelled Sam.

“Do you want to do this fight?” the Alpha asked them, looking from Sam and then to Ember, who was still invisible. “Or do you want my blood?” He cut his wrist, and bled into one of the goblets from the table. He held it out to them. “For taking care of Edgar. Now _go._”

Sam and Dean looked at Ember, and then at each other. “What about the little boy?” asked Sam determinedly.

“Are you joking?” the Alpha said, scoffing at them.

“Do we look like we’re joking?” Dean asked. “How many other kids you got in here, you freak?” Ember looked at him, and in that moment, she remembered that she loved him. Truthfully, nobody else she’d dated – nobody she’d _ever _dated – had compared to Dean.

But this wasn’t the time for that. The Alpha sighed. “At the moment, just him.”

The Alpha looked again at Sam and Dean’s determined faces. “Emily,” he said, “Help Allan with his coat, he’s leaving with Sam and Dean.” He handed Dean the goblet of blood. “Now _take_ it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Charlie. Felicia Day = Wifely Goals. This was a longer chapter, but all three of these episodes (the two listed in the title and the one between them, which was "Reading is Fundamental") didn't end up long enough to have their own chapter.


	26. Survival of the Fittest

***Ember POV***

May 18, Day

Allan was 12. He was the sweetest young man Ember had ever known, but he was very traumatized. Ember had almost hoped that he had been orphaned, because she liked him immediately… but it wasn’t meant to be. He had family who was looking for him, and Ember, Dean, and Sam were forced to sneak out of the police station due to a misunderstanding.

To make matters worse, Bobby had disappeared. The brothers had not allowed him on their last mission, and he was clearly angry about it. He’d managed to steal the flask out of the safe, and ran away with it to who knew where. Ember was angry with her father all over again, and (like the brothers) she knew there was a good possibility she may never see him again. It was almost as though he had died yet again, and she was very upset.

Ember did what she normally did when she got upset, and threw herself into work. In this case, “work” meant “hunting.” Over the next couple of days, Sam, Dean, and Ember worked on the third of the four ingredients necessary to kill Dick Roman: bone of a righteous man.

Their first idea was to call Castiel. Although his ability to string thoughts together in the present was iffy at best, he seemed to have a fairly decent recollection of events in the past. They hoped that he would be able to point them toward someone who was known up in Heaven for having been extremely righteous when they lived… preferably someone whose grave was clearly labeled and had not yet been robbed.

When Ember and Dean attempted it, Sam was busy at a health food store trying to grab appropriate food. The attempt was short-lived, though. Castiel appeared naked in Dean’s car, with nearly 30 bees swarming around him.

“Cas!” Dean cried as he and Ember leapt out of the car.

“What the fuck!” Ember yelled.

“What is wrong?” Castiel said, staring at them out the window, perplexed. “Aren’t they magnificent? It’s true perfection, really, the way they each carry out their jobs and live to be harmonious, all consistently working nonstop for the bigger picture!”

“Look, Cas, uh, maybe you should go back to where you were before and put some clothes on, and give the bees back, and then head back here. Do you think you can do that?” Ember was trying not to look at Castiel’s nakedness, though what she had seen had been rather impressive.

Castiel looked back at her through a haze of bees, which did not seem to be stinging him. “Oh, I suppose,” he said, and disappeared again.

He did not come back. In the end, they decided to take bones from a nunnery. They chose a nun named Sister Mary Constant, who had lived 83 years of quiet, nun-like goodness, according to the church’s records. “Let’s bone this nun,” Dean said, breaking into her crypt. Ember rolled her eyes, but giggled. Just in case, she and Dean dug up two more additional nuns with righteous records in case Sister Mary Constant’s bones didn’t work.

When Ember and the brothers summoned Crowley, however, Crowley did not appear. Instead, they heard a knock on the door, which turned out to be Meg, with Castiel. Castiel informed them that Kevin, the prophet, had been kidnapped by Leviathans., before going once again on a random tangent about monkeys and cosmetics.

“Hey! Focus, is Kevin alive?” Dean yelled to Castiel, clapping his hands in frustration.

“I don’t want to fight!” Castiel shot back at him.

“Nobody is asking you to fight, Cas,” Ember said to him gently, though Dean gave her the stink-eye.

“They took him,” Castiel answered. “He’s alive.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “Wow, I felt so much responsibility, but it’s in your hands, now!”

“Wait, hold on-…” started Dean, but Meg had spied the summoning on the table. 

“Guys, what’s all that?” she asked.

“We called Crowley,” admitted Sam.

“You _what?” _said Meg. Ember knew Meg was only teaming up with them because she was on the run from Crowley.

“Don’t worry,” Dean said. “He never showed.”

“What do you mean never-…”

“Do you see him anywhere?” Dean asked. “He stood us up!”

“Well, I’m sorry about that, but I’m outie,” Meg said. “He could still sh-…”

“Show up at any time,” finished Crowley, appearing suddenly from the corner. “Hello, boys. Sorry I’m late. This _is _an embarrassment of riches.”

All five of them looked at Crowley with trepidation. “Stay, won’t you?” he asked Meg. “There’s really nowhere to run.” She attempted to make a break for it, but he rebelled her. “Don’t you even think of smoking out, pussycat. I’ve got eyes all over the place.”

“Leave her be,” said Castiel in his low voice.

“Castiel,” the King of Hell said, drawing near to the angel. “When last we spoke, you – well, enslaved me. I’m confused. Why aren’t you dead?”

“I don’t know,” the angel said honestly.

“Well, do you want to be? ‘Cause I can help with that,” Crowley said.

“Alright, enough,” Dean said.

“Hey, watch it,” said Ember.

“It’s enough when I say,” said Crowley. “I came here to help you. I find out you’ve been lying to me – harboring an angel, and not just _any _angel – the _one _angel I _most _want to crush between my teeth!”

“Oh, so you can crush angels now, huh?” Meg asked.

“You bore me,” said Crowley to Meg. “You know that? You have no sense of poetry.” He turned to Castiel. “Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Well, I’m still, uh…. Honing my communication strategy,” Castiel said. “You know, I haven’t even been back to Heaven. I keep thinking, there’s no insects up there, but here we have trillions. You know, they’re making honey, and silk, and… miracles, really.”

Crowley looked at Dean, who shrugged. “What are you talking about?” he asked Castiel suspiciously.

“Um, preferring insects to angels, I guess,” said Castiel. “Here,” he said, offering something from his pocket to Crowley. “I can offer you a token, if you like. It’s honey. I collected it myself.”

“At least that explains about the bees, but I still don’t know why you were naked,” Ember commented.

Crowley shot her a strange look, and then said, “You’re off your rocker.”

“After he survived the Leviathans, he took on all of Sam’s pain from Lucifer,” Ember said.

Crowley nodded to show that he understood. “Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Look, did you come here to doggy-punch your old grudges, or to help us end Dick?” Dean asked. “Pick a battle!”

“Well, I’m vexed,” Crowley said. “I’d like to do both. But where’s the fun in clobbering a ball of wet fur?” He looked at Dean and Sam. “Text me when Sparkles here retrieves his marbles, I suppose. Meanwhile, a prezzie.” He pulled out a vial of blood from his suit.

“Really?” Sam asked. “Just… .boxed up and ready to go?”

“I’m a model of efficiency,” Crowley said.

“Is that right?” Sam asked. “Then why were you late?”

“Dick had me in a Devil Trap,” Crowley said plainly. 

The entire group looked at each other. “He’s not an idiot,” Crowley said by way of explanation. “He knows what you two are after.”

“So what did he offer you?” Sam asked.

“A fair deal,” Crowley said. “In exchange for giving you the wrong blood.” He shook the vial, smiling. “It’s demon… but is it _mine?” _He continued to shake it, then admitted, “It’s my blood. Real deal.”

“And why should we trust you?” Dean asked.

“Good God, don’t, never trust _anyone_,” Crowley said. “A lesson I learned from my last business partner.” He stared daggers at Castiel.

“All right,” said Dean. “Give us the blood.”

“Certainly,” said Crowley. “Ooooh, bonus. Meg? I’m gonna scoop you up, take you home, and roast you ‘til you’re jerky.” Castiel moved toward the small group. “But not yet,” he added. “Cas can have you for now. Hilariously, it seems he’d be upset at losing you. And the boys need Cas to get Dick. Don’t they, Cas?”

“I- I don’t fight anymore,” Castiel said, looking downward.

“Come on,” said Crowley. “Given the particulars of your enemy, sadly you’re vital.” And then Crowley threw the vial of blood to Sam and disappeared.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember and the brothers weren’t entirely sure if the blood and bone recipe had worked, but they headed off to the Leviathan’s corn syrup company, Sucrocorp, anyway to attempt to send Dick back to Purgatory. Upon arriving and wiring into the security system from the van outside like Charlie had taught them, they realized a huge flaw in their plan – Dick Roman was _everywhere_. He was at the desk in the lobby. He was in a meeting with several constituents. He was roaming the hallways.

“What the hell?” asked Ember. But then she spotted something that made her even more alarmed. “Bobby.”

“What?” asked Sam and Dean together.

“The maid over there. With the knife?” Ember pointed to a woman dressed in a pink maid’s uniform and carrying a knife, headed into Sucrocorp. “That’s Bobby. She’s possessed.”

Sam grabbed the binoculars to look closer. “That’s the maid,” he said. “From the motel.”

“What motel?” asked Dean.

“The one we stayed in when we went after the Alpha vampire, pay attention!” Ember snapped.

“Look, just wait here,” Sam said, getting out of the car, and Ember followed him.

“Are you out of your mind?” asked Dean.

“You’ve got the weapon, and eyes on Dick, plural,” Sam said. “I’ll take care of Bobby.”

“Sam! Ember! Hey!” Dean yelled, but both of them raced off without him, Ember going invisible and struggling to keep up with Sam’s long steps.

Upon catching up with Bobby, Ember grabbed the maid from behind, and Sam jumped in front of her. “Bobby. I know you’re in there. Listen to me, there are cameras everywhere. There’s one right there.” He pointed upward. “Stop, okay? You’re gonna get her killed.”

Bobby attempted to pry himself away from both Sam and Ember, but he didn’t have the strength to tangle with one on either side. In the scuffle, he flipped them around, so that he was holding Ember up against a large van, and Sam was attempting to pull him off of her. The maid closed her hands around Ember’s throat, and suddenly Bobby yelled, “No!” and let go of the maid, who fell on the ground haphazardly.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The next morning, the group awoke in low spirits back at Rufus’ cabin. The previous night had been a complete bust – there was no clear way to get to Dick Roman, and Bobby had disappeared, though they still had his flask. The only good news was that the maid would make a full recovery.

“Tell me again why you turned tail for some maid?” Meg said. “You were _right _there.”

“Shut up Meg,” said Dean.

“Bite me,” said Ember.

“Because Dick made more Dicks,” Sam said dejectedly. “He must’ve kept a chunk of the original Dick Roman somewhere,” Sam said. “They’d all have to touch it.”

“Crowley was pretty sure Castiel could help,” Ember said, and they all turned to face the angel, who was washing the dishes.

“I _can’t_ help,” he said, clearly upset. “You understand, I can’t. I destroyed… everything, and I will destroy everything _again_. Can we please just leave it at that?”

They all looked at each other. “No,” Dean said, standing. “No we can’t.”

“Dean-…” Ember and Sam started, but Dean ignored them.

“We can’t leave it,” Dean insisted. “You let these friggin’ things in. So you don’t get to make a sandwich. Nobody cares that you’re broken, Cas. Clean up your mess!”

“You know,” Castiel said, looking thoughtful. “We should play Twister.” And he disappeared.

“Nice,” Meg said. “You scared off the Empire’s only hope.”

“Meaning?” snapped Dean.

“Did it occur to you that every one of those things was _in_ Cas?” Meg asked. “He knows them. He can see past the meat suits.” She turned to Ember. “Better even than you.”

“So he’ll be able to spot the real… fake Dick Roman,” Sam clarified.

“Gold star, sugarpants,” Meg said. “Too bad he’s fruit loops, you might’ve had a chance.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

That evening, Bobby showed up. “Idgits,” he said, and they spun around to face him.

“Bobby,” Sam said. “We didn’t know if you-…”

“Well, you should’ve,” Bobby said. “You’ve got the flask.” He shook his head. “Dumb. You should’ve burned it right off.”

“Bobby-…” Ember and Dean started.

“I’m still jonesing to go back, grab some poor bastard… kamikaze ‘em goin’ after Dick,” Bobby admitted to the boys. “It’s bad.” He stopped for a second, looking at Dick Roman’s face on the screen of Dean’s computer. He turned rigid and looked very angry, but appeared to almost shake himself when Dean shut his computer.

“Let’s be real,” Bobby continued. “I damn near killed you. _And _that woman.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Bobby, not really,” Sam said.

“Right,” said Bobby. “That’s just what ghosts turn into.” He looked away from them all. “I really bet the farm I could outsmart that,” he admitted.

“It’s not that easy,” Ember said, and Bobby looked at her carefully.

“So what’s it feel like?” Dean asked, and Bobby whirled to face him.

“What? Going vengeful?” he asked. He shook his head. “It’s an itch you can’t scratch out.” Bobby looked at his daughter. “I don’t know how you’ve done it all these years, Ember. Maybe we all don’t give you enough credit.”

“It gets easier with time,” Ember said, shrugging.

He shook his head. “Look… I’m done. I can’t do it.” He looked at all of them. “Go get Dick,” he said. “But don’t do it because you think it’ll scratch the itch. Do it ‘cause it’s the job.” They all looked at each other, and Bobby continued. “And when it’s your time… go.”

Without speaking, the four of them seemed to come to some kind of agreement. Sam and Dean gathered a fire, and Ember held out her hand to grasp Bobby’s, preparing to talk to her father one last time. She could feel the coldness of his hand, but couldn’t quite seem to grab it. She could feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “I love you, Dad,” she whispered.

“I love you too, girl,” he said. “I love all you guys. Here’s to… running into you guys on the other side. Only… not too soon. Alright?”

And then the flask began to burn, and Bobby was gone. 

And when Ember looked down, she realized that the hand in hers was Dean’s.

***Castiel POV***

May 20, Evening

Castiel sat in the trees outside the cabin playing Connect Four by himself. The games helped him focus. They helped him think about less important things, and he thought perhaps this helped him focus on the more important things when he had to think about them. But perhaps this was wrong, and things were upside down.

Ember was coming near him, and Ember scared him far more now than she used to, because he didn’t trust himself to control his attraction to her anymore. “I don’t like when you come near me,” he said to her honestly.

She gave him a hurt look. “Whatever, asshole, I’ll leave then.”

“Wait!” he said, confused. “Did I say something to hurt you?”

She looked at him strangely, then shook her head. “Cas, you just told me you didn’t like having me around.”

“No,” he said frankly. “I said I don’t like it when you _come near me._ I know what I said. I don’t trust myself. You smell good.”

Ember smiled, and, alarmingly, sat on the ground right in front of Castiel. He thought his message had been clear.

“What are you doing?”

“I trust you,” she said.

Castiel squirmed backward, just slightly, so that her smell wasn’t quite so intoxicating, and she didn’t follow. Instead, she said, “Cas, without you, we can’t tell which Leviathan is Dick.”

“I won’t fight.”

“Fine. I get that. But Cas, you can do math, right? And probabilities?”

“I still know my math.” He thought for a second. “Did you know that all animals use simple math in some way?”

“Cas,” Ember said, and his focus whipped back to the half-demon girl. “With you, this plan _might _fail. _Without _you, this plan _will _fail. Got that?”

“I don’t trust-…”

“You fucked up, Cas,” Ember said, moving near him again. “It’s called _forgiveness_. Isn’t that what you angels are supposed to be about? I’m pretty sure there was something in the Bible about God being about forgiveness, at least. Or, in the new testament, anyway. Look, the point is, I trust you. You should trust yourself.”

And then she did the kindest thing she had ever done for him, and kissed him on the cheek. He scrambled backward from her again, alarmed.

“See?” Ember said. “_Trust yourself_. We need you.”

And she walked away, the mark of her lips still burning the angel’s cheek.

***Ember POV***

May 21

Once Castiel was on board, the plan was simple, and perfectly executed, for the most part. Meg and Ember drove the Impala right through the Sucrocorp sign on the front lawn, drawing the fire of all Leviathans nearby. Dean, Cas, Sam, Jo, and Ellen snuck into Sucrocorp the back way. Dean and Cas went to kill Dick, and Sam, Jo, and Ellen went to free Kevin Tran.

Once Ember and Meg were done beheading Leviathans on the front lawn, Ember headed back inside the building, invisible. By the time Ember caught up with Dean and Cas, they had cornered Dick in the laboratory. Dean had what Ember knew to be a fake copy of the bone bathed in the 3 bloods of the fallen, and was holding it up in front of Dick.

“You sure I’m even me, Dean?” he was saying.

“No,” Dean said. “But _he_ is.” Dean gestured at Castiel, who was behind him. “See, here’s the thing when dealing with Crowley, he will _always_ find a way to bone you.”

“This meeting is over,” said Dick, but Ember slammed the door shut.

In the second it took Dick to look over at the mysteriously shut door, Castiel had rushed Dick, and Dean had stabbed him with the fake bone. Dick sent Castiel hurtling into Ember, and pulled out the fake bone from his chest.

“Did you really think you could trump _me?”_ Dick said.

“Honestly?” Dean said. “No.” And he stabbed him with the real bone, right through the neck. “Figured we’d have to catch you off guard,” he explained.

Dick began to scream, and then he began to pulse. Ember backed toward the door, but Dean and Castiel seemed frozen where they were. Sam, Jo, Ellen, and Kevin Tran ran through the door Ember had slammed shut, colliding with Ember in a heap. And then, suddenly, Castiel, Dean, and Dick were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to throw in something about the bees. Just had to.


	27. We Need to Talk About Kevin

***Ember POV***

**ONE YEAR LATER**

Over a year had passed since Dean and Castiel had sent the Leviathans back to Purgatory. Ember had a busy life. She talked people down from suicide (or homicide) on a daily basis, and supervised several employees who did the same. It wasn’t the same as hunting, of course. There were fistfights, though, and there was a lot of drama, and she was saving people, so some days it _felt _about the same.

Ember was 30, nearly 31. In the year since Dean and Cas disappeared, she had settled down in a modest two-bedroom apartment and decided to become licensed as a foster parent. She wasn’t finding a man anytime soon, anyway. Frankly, none of them could measure up to Dean. Still, she desperately wanted children, so this seemed like the best course of action.

She still ran into occasional demons. There had been one demon in the past year, and one Leviathan, which scared her far more. Overall, however, her home life was quiet, and her work life was stressful, and she spent time with friends on the weekends.

Ember rarely spoke to Sam anymore. For the first month after Dean and Castiel’s disappearance, they had spoken nearly daily as Ember attempted to follow up on leads about Dean and Castiel. There had been relatively little to follow up on, however. Dean was not able to be summoned and so was not a ghost. Crowley and the demons, even under torture, promised that Dean and Castiel were not in Hell, which (by process of elimination) meant that they had gone to either Heaven or Purgatory. The Leviathan Ember captured said the same. 

Ember and Sam desperately hoped that Dean was in Heaven and not Purgatory. They prayed to a variety of angels in Heaven, as well as several non-specific prayers, to give some sort of sign as to whether or not Dean was in Heaven, but got no result. Ember even managed to locate a reaper and asked if Dean was in Heaven. “It is not my business to know which humans are in Heaven,” the reaper told Ember. “I did not reap him, but I can’t tell you more than that.”

“You’re an angel, right? You have angel radio?” Ember begged. “Surely they’ve said something about Castiel.”

“The fallen angel has disappeared. He has not been seen since the Leviathan were vanquished.”

“Thank you,” Ember told the reaper.

“Do not come back to this realm until it is time for your reaping,” the reaper told her. “You are in good favor with Heaven… do not tempt us.”

Without any confirmation on whether or not Dean was in Heaven, Ember turned to searching in Purgatory, but this was even more difficult. The spell Castiel had performed required a lunar eclipse and the blood of a Purgatory native. Short of selling her soul to Crowley (and even then she wasn’t sure she could succeed), she didn’t see a possible way to obtain the blood of a Purgatory native.

By the time Ember had done all of this research, it was nearly October. Each day, Sam had seemed less and less interested in the search for Dean. “We promised him that if we got separated, we wouldn’t look for him,” Sam said one day in late October. 

“But-…”

“I hate that he’s gone, Ember, you know I do!” Sam said. “But he wouldn’t have wanted us to make a deal with a crossroads demon, and the angels aren’t responding, and the Alpha vampire is our only lead left. I’ve got hunters all over the US looking for him, but until we hear something, I don’t see how much more we can do.”

Ember knew Sam was right, but she was also surprised to hear that he was giving up. She felt hurt, and insulted, and perhaps even guilty – if Dean’s brother wasn’t actively searching, she, as his ex-girlfriend, should have probably given up a long time ago. 

Ultimately, Ember turned her attention to making plans to become a parent. Sam, she knew, had a girlfriend and a dog in another state. Over time, therefore, Ember found herself talking to Sam less and less. First it was once every few days, then once a week, then once every two weeks, and, eventually, perhaps once a month.

Until October 3rd, when Dean Winchester showed back up in her life.

***Ember POV***

October 3

The phone rang. _Christ, it’s Sunday morning,_ Ember thought, rolling over in her bed in an attempt to go back to sleep.

The phone continued to ring. “Oh, al_right_,” Ember grumbled, picking it up and pressing to answer.

“Ember?” said the voice on the other end.

Ember’s heart stopped. “Who - who is this?”

“It’s me,” Dean said. “Look, I just sprung out of Purgatory. Do you know-…”

“Dean, what the _fuck! _Purgatory?!?! What happened? Where’s Cas? Where are you now?”

“Whoa, slow down! I’m in Maine. It’s a long story. I’m okay. None of Sam’s numbers are working, though. Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, I’ve got an updated number. He’s in Texas these days.”

“Yeah? What’s he working on there?”

_He has no idea what’s happened._ “Um… look, a lot has happened while you were gone. Maybe we should talk first. I’ll give you Sam’s number, but will you drop by on your way to Texas? I can meet you halfway if you can hitch a ride.”

“Nah… I can hitch the whole way, don’t worry,” Dean said. “It’ll take me a couple of days, but I can be in Lafayette by Tuesday or Wednesday.”

“Okay,” Ember said, still in disbelief.

She hung up the phone, and continued to lay in bed, hoping for sleep. She was fairly certain, however, that that ship had sailed.

***Dean POV***

October 5, Evening

Dean had come to a lot of realizations in Purgatory.

One of these realizations was that no matter what it took, he was going to get Ember back. The Leviathans were gone, and he was out of Purgatory. If she wanted him to settle down, he would settle down. He preferred not to, of course, but he had been right back when they were dating: he had lost too many people that he loved to let Ember out of his grasp when what they had had been so perfect. Bobby and Castiel would have liked the idea of him settling down, anyway.

Dean was anxiously awaiting his first sight of Ember, but when her door swung open she was nowhere to be seen. “Holy water, silver, salt, Borax,” her voice commanded out of nowhere, and all four were provided in the doorway. 

He had forgotten how smart she was, and how good at this. After he had given himself the run down, he said, “Your turn.” She became visible again, and quickly began the “holy water, silver, salt, Borax” routine. Her hair was longer again, like it had been the year they’d settled down together. She was less muscular than she used to be, but no less thin. She wore a tank top and black leggings, and she looked at him with suspicion in her beautiful dark eyes. He thought she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“What?” she said, misunderstanding his staring.

“Nothing, it’s…” he trailed off. “I’ve just been…”

She seemed to understand. “How long has it been since you had a cheeseburger, Dean Winchester?”

A cheeseburger sounded very, _very_ good right now. Ember rolled her eyes. “Let’s go out, then,” she said. “I’m driving, no complaints. Let me get changed.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Dean had forgotten how much he liked cheeseburgers. He had thought about them in Purgatory, but what he remembered barely compared to the actual taste. When he’d come back from Hell, Castiel had reunited his soul with an already prepared body, and he hadn’t been nearly this hungry or thirsty. He ate his fill of expensive cheeseburgers, and promised Ember he would pay her back when he got the chance. 

“Jesus, Dean, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re back. Speaking of which, what took you two days to get from Maine to Indiana? You should’ve been able to hitch that in less than a day.”

Dean thought for a moment, considering how much of the story of his time in Purgatory he should tell her. Ultimately, he decided on some of the truth. If he ever wanted her back in his life, he needed to trust her. That was part of how things had gotten messed up the first time, he knew. “I, uh, found a friend in Purgatory,” Dean said. “And when I got out, there was some unfinished business I had to take care of in Louisiana, for him, before I did anything else.”

“A friend?” Ember asked, obviously curious.

Dean pursed his lips, suddenly regretting beginning this conversation. “Look, you know how you were always saying that being a monster is a choice, for some people? And you never gave up hope about finding some more monsters who were... friendly?” He tried to make it sound kind, instead of the way he’d brought it up during their last discussion about the subject two years previously.

“Like Lenore,” Ember said.

Dean had forgotten about Lenore, the vampire who stayed alive on donated blood.

“Yeah, exactly like Lenore, actually,” Dean said. Ember seemed to accept this easier than he had expected, so he continued. “I ran into a vampire, like Lenore, and… I never would’ve gotten out without him,” Dean admitted. “We fought together.”

Ember nodded thoughtfully. “Did he get out with you?”

And there it was. Dean hadn’t meant to tell her this much, and he never would have imagined telling her this… but she had asked it as calmly as if she were asking “Is the sky blue?”

“Yeah, he… he’s settled down south.”

“And you believe him?” Ember said. “About the donated blood?” Ember glanced at him briefly, but he could tell she was not being accusatory at all. Was there any other hunter he could trust to be this calm and open-minded about something like this? _Had there ever been a half-demon hunter in existence?_

“Yes, I do,” Dean answered.

“Okay,” Ember said. She looked at him then. “Thank you for telling me,” she said.

“Yeah, just… don’t tell Sam, okay? Not yet. I just… don’t know how he’ll react.”

Ember shrugged and grumbled something under her breath.

“What?” Dean asked curiously.

“Nothing,” Ember said. “It’s…” she sighed, then turned toward him. “Look, Sam’s a little… different than when you left. Okay? It’s not bad different. He’s not in trouble or anything, and he’s still in perfect health, he just… he’s different. We had a couple of disagreements, and we only speak every… I don’t know, every month or so.”

Dean was shocked. “Why? What the hell did he do?”

Ember looked pained. “Look, he’s not in any trouble, it’s just… you have to hear it from him, okay?”

Dean knew her well enough by now to know that she wasn’t budging. “Okay. I gave him a call, I’ll be out there by tomorrow night,” he said. “I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.”

Ember nodded. “Like I said, it’s nothing bad, just… different.”

“Alright,” Dean said awkwardly. “So… what’s new with you, then?”

“I’m becoming a foster parent,” Ember announced.

Dean tried quickly to cover his shock, and knew that he was failing miserably. “Um… do you… you are?”

“Yeah,” Ember said. “I’m just at the beginning of the process, though. I just took the first training class last week. I’m so busy, it’ll be a few months yet before I can get my license.”

“Did you… get married?”

“No,” Ember said, laughing. Dean got the impression that she was choosing whether or not to say something. Finally, she looked down at her own cheeseburger and said, “Dean, I’ve never been able to find a guy I fit with as much as you.” She looked him in the face. “I know we had our problems, and those certainly haven’t gone away, but where the hell else am I gonna find a guy that can defend himself against the demons that come around, but won’t judge me for being half-demon? It’s just not gonna happen. So, I’ve given up. I’m skipping the whole ‘husband’ thing and just moving on to being a parent.”

Well, that conversation hadn’t gone the way he’d thought. It had started promising, what with the whole, “I’ve never been able to find a guy I fit with as much as you” statement, and Dean took a second trying to figure out where her speech had gone so wrong. It was probably somewhere around the word “parent”, he decided.

“Aren’t we a little… young to be parents?” he asked her.

“Dean, I’m almost 31. And you’re 33.” She sniggered. “You’re 73, if you count Hell. You’re an old man, Dean Winchester.” She smirked. “You might have to start having proctology exams.”

“Oh, hell no!” Dean said, allowing her to switch off this dangerous subject. After that, Dean and Ember returned to discussing Purgatory for awhile. Dean told Ember about all of the monsters they had killed in Purgatory. “It’s… Purgatory is _pure_,” he explained to her. “That’s what I always told Benny. No power, no corruption, no politics… just running for your life, all the time.”

Ember made a face. “I’m so sorry, Dean… we tried to look for you… well…” she left off, then seemed to shake her head. “Anyway. In the end, we knew you hadn’t gone to Hell, but we couldn’t be sure whether you were in Heaven or Purgatory. And I tracked down the spell Castiel used to get into Purgatory, but it required the blood of a native of Purgatory, and there was just no way-…”

“It’s not on you, Ember,” Dean said. “There was no way you could’ve gotten Cas or I out.”

Ember nodded. “Speaking of Cas,” she ventured, letting the sentence linger unfinished.

“He didn’t make it,” Dean said flatly.

“Are you sure?” she asked kindly.

He looked away from her. “Yes,” he said. There were things he would talk about with her, because it was her, and because he wanted her in his life… but, there were some things he still just couldn’t talk about.

Ember seemed to sense this. “I’m sorry,” she said.

By then, Ember and Dean were leaving the restaurant and on their way back to Ember’s place. “You’re staying the night,” Ember informed him.

“I don’t want to put you out,” Dean said. “You really don’t need to-…”

“You have no money and no credit cards, not even fraudulent ones,” Ember said. “You must’ve either squatted or slept outside the past three nights. Has it been since before Purgatory that you slept on a _bed?”_

“Yes,” Dean admitted.

“Point made, I think,” Ember said.

Dean wasn’t sure whether or not to take Ember’s words at face value. She hadn’t yet said anything to let him know that “staying the night” meant anything more than him sleeping on the couch… but he also hadn’t stayed the night with her since they had dated two years ago. In his head, he flew quickly through their interactions since their breakup: when Bobby had died, she had stayed at a hotel under a false name, favoring complementary breakfasts and hot showers to the amenities offered at Rufus’ cabin. When Sam had gone insane from Lucifer, he had visited her apartment, but not stayed the night. Finally, when they had traveled together shortly before Dean went to Purgatory, Ember had always made sure to stay in a separate hotel room.

_A man could hope…_ “What did you miss most, while you were in Purgatory?” Ember asked as they filed into her small apartment. She had been living here for awhile, he noticed, and not moving around like she did with the Leviathans. The apartment bore the unmistakeable signs of someone protecting themselves from demons (salt in the doorway and on the windowsills), however the amount of furniture and knick-knacks suggested that she had finally been able to put down roots again.

Dean thought for a minute, while nursing a beer. “You, and Sam,” he said slowly. “And cheeseburgers. And sex.”

Ember laughed. “I missed you too,” she said. “Had loads of cheeseburgers, though. Sex…” she sighed, and he could tell that she was pretending not to notice how closely he was paying attention. “Haven’t had sex since a couple of months after you disappeared,” she admitted.

This was his “in”, and he knew it. “How come?” he asked, standing and moving closer to her.

She shrugged. She was doing the dishes, but Dean noticed she’d been rinsing the same dish for the last 10 seconds. “Friends with benefits guy got married,” she admitted.

Dean almost asked, “Want a new one?” before remembering that this wasn’t exactly a proposal for a romantic relationship. Instead, he pushed down his jealousy and settled for, “He did, did he?” Then he slunk his arms gracefully around her slender waist. She turned in his arms and kissed him, first awkwardly, and then more steadily.

_Finally._ How many times had he dreamed of this in Purgatory? The real thing was nothing like the dreams, though. She was soft and pliant in his arms, and she smelled heavenly, of things that reminded him of better times. He wanted her, fast, and hard, but the mood wasn’t right.

In spite of himself, he picked up the pace, kissing her faster and harder. In response, she pushed him backward, lightly. He fell back against her on couch, and she climbed on top of him.

***Ember POV***

October 5, Late Evening

Ember hadn’t expected this today, but it was a stroke of luck. Dean had been the best she’d ever had, there was no contest. She had never been sure whether it was because of his skill, or because he was by far her longest relationship, and he had simply dated her long enough to find out what made her scream. Ember had noticed once, long ago, the similarities between Dean’s styles of sex and torture, and tonight was no exception. Even though she was on top of him on the couch, he held her inches away from himself, just looking at her. His eyes were smoldering, and she got the feeling he was wondering if she looked the same naked as she used to. As if responding to her thoughts, he began to slowly peel off her top, discarding it on the floor. After giving her another long, appraising look, he smiled, and leaned forward to kiss and suck on her neck.

She moved closer to him, enough to feel his hardness, and he groaned at the friction, but still didn’t thrust upward. He used one hand to tease just under her underwear on her lower back, and the other to seamlessly unclasp her bra, which then joined the shirt on the floor. He stopped for a moment, only then realizing that she was trying to tug his shirt off as well.

Now both shirtless, he pulled her to him and finally rocked upward. It was her turn to groan, but no sooner had he pressed where she most needed him than he had rocked back again, away from her. He cupped her breasts, rubbing the sensitive nipples, and sucked on both.

Ember was impatient, and began to unbuckle his belt, but he closed the distance between them again, rocketing upward and covering her mouth with his. It was another few minutes of kissing and thrusting before he allowed her to unclasp his pants, finally freeing him. By that point, she was more than ready for him – nothing was more intoxicating to Ember than the restraint of a man who she knew was starving for her.

He was harder than ever, and she took as much of him in her mouth as she could. He groaned a loud, guttural, groan, and Ember maneuvered her hand toward his ass, pulling him closer.

“Your turn,” he whispered, forcing Ember away from him, and instead pulling her back onto his lap. This time he pulled her onto his lap fully, thrusting up where she wanted him most. She had on a pair of leggings, and he separated them just long enough to peel them off, along with a pair of red underwear.

“New underwear,” he whispered into her ear, his voice low and husky. “I like them. But I like you better without them.”

She made to position him at her entrance, but he feigned slightly left, causing her to gasp when his hardness pressed her sweet spot. She whined, and he grabbed her ass, rubbing her across him again, his tongue exploring her neck and shoulder. It didn’t take long before she came undone, crying his name and then shaking in his arms. It had been _so long_ since she’d had sex, and even longer since she’d had sex like _that_… ironically, it occurred to her that she actually hadn’t even _had_ sex yet. 

Just as she was thinking this, Dean lined himself up at her entrance and thrusted, filling her to the hilt. Both let out a groan, and Ember took over and began slowly moving up and down, occasionally throwing in a circular motion. It wasn’t long before they were both panting with a rhythm that had been established years ago, and never really forgotten. Finally, with a final thrust, Ember felt her walls clench around him. He followed her only a second later, shouting her name as he came.

***Dean POV***

October 6, Morning

When Dean awoke, he felt happier than he had in a long time. Things were back on track. He was back from Purgatory, and he’d had a cheeseburger, and sex, and he was in bed with Ember again.

Or maybe he wasn’t. “Where are you going?” he asked her, opening one eye to watch her get dressed.

“Work,” she said. She smiled at him. “People don’t stop having issues just because Dean Winchester comes home from Purgatory.”

Dean tried not to show his pout, but she caught it anyway. “I figured you’d want to get on to Sam,” she admitted.

He _did_ want to go see Sam, but still… “I do, but… do you want to come with me? Like before?”

Something changed in her expression then, a slight flinch. “Dean… look, I’m about to be a mother.”

Right. Yeah, he’d forgotten about that.

“I mean, we haven’t done this in… in two years, you know? And… I mean, it was…” She shook her head. “It was _great_. Like, Jesus, you rocked my world, I’ll readily admit it.”

Dean smiled with pride and moved to kiss her, but she continued. “I just don’t know…”

Dean understood. It didn’t change anything. She still wanted a family; he still wanted to hunt. It was now or never, then. Dean said, “Ember, I can settle down. I… well, I’ll admit I didn’t think it would come _this fast_, but… I can phase out hunting, you know? And I’ve stopped drinking, because, you know, there’s no alcohol in Purgatory…” he trailed off, realizing that he sounded like he was begging. “I… I want you back in my life. For good. I don’t think I ever really stopped wanting you in my life.”

Ember looked pained. “Look, I… I don’t know what to say to that.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Dean… look, you’re not going to be happy unless you’re hunting. We both know that. You were the one last night who told me that Purgatory was _pure_…” She avoided his eye, and seemed to be choosing whether or not to say something. Finally she said, “And it’s not just about me being a mother. You still shoot first and ask questions later. Dean, you just got back from Purgatory. You’re… you’re _jumpy_. You’re like a war veteran just home from the war and not sure how to handle life again. And I love you, Dean, I always have, and I always will, I just don’t…”

Dean felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He was hurt, deeply. “Fine,” he said. “I’m sorry I asked.” And he began to gather his things.

“Dean, wait!” Ember looked crushed, and began hurrying after him. He saw a tear slide down her cheek. In spite of himself, he stopped. “Look… I don’t know what else to do anymore, Dean. I spend half of my life wanting to be with you, and the other half trying to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to work being with you into the rest of my life. And clearly it’s not working. So here’s what I’m proposing: Call me when you can. Come around when you can. And when you can’t, don’t. Because even that’s more than I have now. You say you wanna make another go of it, maybe phase hunting out eventually? Fine, we’ll see what happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's difficult to write for Dean because he doesn't talk about his feelings at all, or unless he's really motivated. At the same time, though, he's a bit better at doing it with the fairer sex than he is with Sam, even. Let me know if you think this is right, or what changes I should make. Reviews are my lifeblood!


	28. Torn and Frayed

***Dean POV***

Winter

Something had shifted in Ember’s relationship with Dean. It was a substantial change, but not an obvious one, unless you were very close to Ember or to Dean. Sam was aware of it, but perhaps he was the only one.

Ember and Dean texted almost daily, and talked at least once a week. It wasn’t as often as they had talked when they had dated, but far more pleasant. It was about as often as they had been talking during the rule of the Leviathans, o-+

nly less Dick-Roman related. They saw each other only twice during the fall, when Dean and Sam stopped in on their way to and from different jobs.

Their new “relationship” had rules, which were never spoken, but referred to from time to time in abstract terms. They would check in with each other occasionally. They would use a condom with their other sexual partners (though neither of them actually had other sexual partners). They would not attempt to define their relationship one way or another. They would not say “I love you.” They were free, however, to have occasional sex (if Dean happened to be in town) and to simply enjoy each other’s company, whether by phone or in person. Dean and Sam both spent a week with Ember at Christmas time, and it was the most enjoyable Christmas either had had in some time.

“Now remember, she’s _not _my girlfriend,” said Dean, pulling into the parking lot of her apartment for their Christmas stay.

“Whatever,” said Sam, giving Dean a sideways glance.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re in love with her, man. You always have been. And she’s in love with you.”

“It’s complicated,” Dean answered.

“Well, duh. I get it, man, you _really _love hunting. But doesn’t it kind of feel like you’re… I don’t know, just doing the whole “friends with benefits” thing until something better comes along?”

It did feel like that, sometimes, and it hadn’t been his choice, but both of these things went on the long list of things he definitely wasn’t going to tell Sam. “This is every guys’ dream, man! It’s basically like having a meaningful open relationship.”

“You _do _know that I know that everything you’re saying is bullshit, right?” Sam asked.

“Come on, don’t ruin this for me, dude,” was Dean’s only response as he knocked on the door to her apartment.

***Ember POV***

Winter

Ember’s relationship with Dean wasn’t ideal, but after the year with the Leviathans and the year in Purgatory, she felt as though they were in a better place than they had been in quite a while. She knew that life without Dean Winchester was lonely and unbearably dull, that she enjoyed his company, and that, in another demon-free circumstance, he would’ve been an ideal husband. She also knew he would never be happy sitting at home with her, so perhaps this was truly the best of both worlds. Every other possible outcome had made them miserable, so perhaps this was their best shot.

Dean and Sam brought news in late fall that they were in the process of searching for a demon tablet which would tell how to seal demons in Hell forever. When she was younger, Ember would have hoped that once this was achieved, Dean might be done hunting for good. She was old enough by now to know that this would never happen, but that didn’t stop her from offering her help with the tablet. “Let me know if you guys need anything,” she said, and they promised that they would. 

Meanwhile, there were other things to attend to. Ember and Dean didn’t talk as frequently as they had when they had been “officially” dating, but when they did talk it was usually for longer periods of time and about more substantial things. Over time, Dean forgave Sam for not looking for him in Purgatory, and Ember was ultimately forced to forgive Sam as well. It was a relief, to be honest. Ember had missed her friendship with Sam almost as much as she had missed having Dean in her life.

Castiel showed back up the day before Ember’s 31st birthday, and Ember was ecstatic to receive the call from Dean explaining that he was back in the picture. When Castiel had the energy to travel again, he visited Ember at her home as well, and they spent an evening catching up on each other’s experiences over the past year.

To the annoyance of her foster care workers, Ember opted not to accept foster children for the time being. She refused to expose a child who had never been exposed to monsters, and instead was waiting for a child who had already had exposure and was trying to figure out how to deal with it. There were plenty – Ember just had to do a little digging. As busy as work kept Ember, however, it was well after the new year before she was even able to obtain her foster license.

Overall, Ember kept herself busy, but there was more than enough time to fit the Winchester brothers back into the cracks in her life. 

***Sam POV***

January 7

Sam Winchester was furious. Dean had made a new friend in Purgatory, a vampire named Benny.

Dean never would have gotten out of Purgatory without Benny – Sam accepted that.

It had probably been a dumb move on Sam’s behalf to hire their father’s crazed hunter friend Martin to spy on Benny – Sam accepted that, too.

Dean trusted Benny, and as it turned out, Benny wasn’t responsible for the vampire-related deaths in his area. Instead, it had been a rogue vampire who was angry with Benny for turning “soft.” It was possible – monsters like Kate, and Lenore, and apparently Benny did exist, however rare. Sam would’ve accepted that, too, if he hadn’t been so ridiculously pissed off.

What he didn’t accept was that Dean had sent him on a wild goosechase to keep him out of the way while he dealt with the Benny issue. He had switched his ex-girlfriends’ phone number with a burner phone number and sent Sam on a fake rescue mission.

When Dean tracked Sam to his motel room in Kermit, Texas, Sam almost didn’t answer the door.

“Who did you expect?” asked Dean.

“Long drive,” Sam commented coldly.

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to make it if you hadn’t hung up on me,” Dean commented.

“Yeah, well, I heard all I needed to hear,” Sam said.

“No, you heard what you _wanted _to hear,” Dean snapped. “I told you Benny wasn’t killing. Hell, I watched him end the fangbanger that was.”

“How about Martin?” Sam asked. “How did he end that?”

“Stupid,” Dean said. “Just like I said it would. Crazy son of a bitch didn’t give Benny a choice. It was self-defense.”

“Seriously? Dean? That’s the story you’re going with? That the vampire was the real victim here?”

“Hey, like it or not, that’s the truth, okay? There was a time when that actually meant something.”

He was one to talk, Sam thought. Benny wasn’t why he was really angry, anyway. Dean had yet to mention Amelia or the burner phone. “Yeah, yeah, no kidding,” Sam said.

“What does that mean?” Dean asked.

“You think this is just about Benny?” Sam asked.

“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Dean, and Sam wanted to slap him.

“What the hell do you think I’m talking about?” Sam asked.

“Amelia?” Dean asked, looking surprised. “Oh, come on, man, I sent you that text ‘cause I needed you to… to…”

“You needed me to what?” Sam snapped. “To tear ass to Texas? To be afraid that what happened to Jessica, what happened to… to everybody that we care about might have happened to her?”

“You were gonna kill Benny. What was I supposed to do?” Dean said.

Sam was furious. He had had enough. He had never said anything about killing Benny. If anything, he had been the one keeping _Martin_ under control. “Is that what we are?” he asked. “You save a vampire by making me believe that the woman I love might be dead? Dean, do you know why the woman _you _love _isn’t here right now?_ It’s because of _stupid decisions like this.”_

Dean’s face turned furious. “Fuck you,” he said. “Fuck you, man. Glad I made the drive.” And he walked out without looking back.

***Ember POV***

January 16, Daytime

Dean showed up at Ember’s house after his latest fight with Sam. To his credit, she understood what he did, and why he had done it. Sam had made a mistake not trusting Dean, and Dean had made a mistake going to below-the-belt means to get Sam out of the way. 

Despite the circumstances, Ember relished the time spent with Dean. There were days when it was almost like they were dating again, until she remembered that they weren’t _technically _dating again, and then she remembered _why_ they weren’t technically dating again. Still, she missed him constantly.

After four days, however, Ember had begun to wonder exactly how long Dean would be staying. Just as she began to psych herself up to broach this conversation with him, Castiel showed up. Dean was asleep at the time, and Ember was resting on his chest, enjoying his familiar smell and the rise and fall of his deep breathing. She jumped when Castiel began to speak, shooting up suddenly and staring at him fiercely. 

Dean shot upward upon realizing Castiel was standing in front of him. “Damn it, Cas. How many times do I have to tell you! It’s just creepy!”

“Dean, Ember, I need your help,” Castiel said. “The angel Samandriel… he’s been taken.”

And just like that, Ember was off on her first hunting adventure in over a year.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It took Castiel, Ember, and Dean nearly two days to track down Samandriel. They knew he was in the “general vicinity of Hastings, Nebraska”, according to Castiel, but they went to nine different abandoned factories before Castiel and Ember recognized demons. The place where Samandriel was being kept would be crawling with them, of course. Angel warding would be an issue, too.

They needed more help, and they knew it. Dean refused to call Sam for help, but it occurred to him that Kevin, the prophet, was in a houseboat nearby, and had knowledge of how to make demon bombs. Once at the houseboat, Castiel left to gather the ingredients Kevin indicated. When he returned, Sam was in tow.

“Sam!” Ember exclaimed, running to give him a hug.

“What’s he doing here?” asked Dean.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” said Sam. “Once we save Alfie, I’m out.” (Alfie was the vessel Samandriel had taken.)

“Once ‘we’ save Alfie? Don’t hurt yourself, Sam,” Dean said sarcastically. “The three of us can handle it.”

Ember started to talk, but Sam cut her off. “Not according to Cas.”

“I told you we didn’t need him,” Dean said to Castiel.

“And I told you we needed everyone we can get,” Ember said.

Castiel nodded. “And I need both of you, as they say, to stow your crap! Can you do that?”

They agreed that they could.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Castiel explained that there were four different angel warding symbols on the building where Samandriel was being kept. The three of them quietly killed a demon to get inside. Ember regretted the killing, but she knew there wasn’t long enough to perform an exorcism and still keep things quiet, and Dean needed the keys. After that, Sam and Dean headed one direction, and Ember invisible, headed another. As she went, she began to chant an exorcism low under her breath. She had her manufactured scent covering her, as Sam had first suggested so many years ago, and though the demons looked up and sniffed, they couldn’t pinpoint her exact location.

One angel sigil covered… she could hear Samandriel’s screaming. Two sigils covered… she heard a loud thump, and ran quietly in that direction, passing a third covered angel sigil on the way there. Sam and Dean were fighting with a demon, but by the time Ember caught up with them he was already stabbed with Sam’s angel blade.

Castiel joined them then, but he was out of breath. “It must be the sigils,” he said. “I’m not at full power.”

“Sam, help me muss this crud,” Dean said, getting out his spray can again.

“No, wait!” Castiel said. “There’s no time! Samandriel won’t last much longer.” And just after that, Cas began to cower, shrinking down to the ground as though hallucinating. “Cas. Cas? Cas!” whispered Ember hurriedly.

“Ember!” Dean said, and Ember realized Sam and Dean were attempting to break down a door behind which she could hear Samandriel screaming. Ember easily freed the door with her powers just in time to hear Crowley say, “There’s an angel tablet.”

After that Crowley disappeared, and everyone started fighting. There were two demons, and both put up a good fight. Dean and Sam kept them busy, and meanwhile Ember exorcised both of them, with Sam and Dean both stepping back in shock as both hosts fell to the floor and smoke rose upwards from their mouths.

“Right,” said Dean, looking around suddenly as Ember reappeared. “We forgot you liked to do that.”

Ember rolled her eyes. “Idiots.”

They ran out to meet up with Castiel and Samandriel, only to find Samandriel dead.

“Cas, what the hell!” Ember exclaimed.

“He was compromised,” said Castiel in a robotic, odd voice. Ember and Dean looked at each other questioningly.

“He came at me. I killed him in self-defense,” Castiel continued.

“Cas, are you okay?” Dean asked. Blood was leaking out of Castiel’s eye. Ember made to move toward him, but he held out his hand.

“My vessel must’ve been damaged in the melee,” he said. “I have to go. Samandriel’s remains belong in Heaven.”

He made to leave.

“Cas, wait!” Dean said.

“Thank you both,” Castiel said. “For everything you’ve done.”

And he disappeared.

***Dean POV***

January 19, Evening

Sam, Dean, and Ember regrouped at the airport in Nebraska to see Ember off back to Indiana. They all three agreed that something was fishy with Castiel, but Ember had already spent too much time away from work. After Ember had left, Dean turned to Sam.

“What about you? Don’t you have a girl to get back to?” he asked his brother.

Sam looked surprised. “Yeah, I guess I do.” He paused. “Since when are you on the Amelia bandwagon?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m just tired of all the fighting.” He paused. “And… you know, maybe I’m a… little bit jealous.” He faced Sam. “You were right, what you said. Things are… complicated, with us. I don’t want them to be… but they are. I could never separate myself from the job like you could.” He looked out the window at Ember’s plane, and part of him wished he could be happy with a different job, or perhaps with a different woman…. He wasn’t sure which one he would miss more. “Hell,… maybe it’s time for at least one of us to be happy.”

But in the end, Sam decided that Amelia was better off with her husband. Dean thought sometimes that perhaps neither of them would ever truly settle down.


	29. Trial and Error, Goodbye Stranger

***Ember POV***

January 30, Evening

Dean was lucky enough to catch a case in Farmington Hills, Michigan less than a week later, which was close enough that Ember drove to see him over the weekend. The three of them reunited with Charlie Bradbury, the hacker, to solve the case, which involved several people who were connected through a LARPing (Live Action Role Playing) group. After the case was solved, the two brothers and Ember had a good time dressing up in Medieval gear and fighting for the honor of the queen, who happened to be Charlie.

A week later, however, Dean called Ember in a very different mood.

“So… met my grandfather,” he said.

“You what?”

Dean proceeded to tell Ember that his grandfather was apparently something called a “Man of Letters”, which he described as a secret organization sort of like in James Bond or Mission Impossible, except dealing with the supernatural. Apparently Henry Winchester had used a sigil to jump forward in time to run away from a demon called Abaddon. Abaddon had ultimately been destroyed, but Henry had died in the present time, leaving his son John (Dean and Sam’s father) thinking that he had abandoned him.

“Ember, that’s why I’m scared to have a family. You know that, right? It’s not… I’d love to have a family, you know that. But… my grandfather, and my father, did the best they could. But my grandfather still never saw my father past the first decade, and my father was gone for weeks at a time, with us thinking he was dead or worse. And every time I try to leave that life…”

Ember was surprised. Dean must truly have been shaken by the experience with his grandfather if he was willing to discuss this with her; he wasn’t usually so forthcoming. “I know, Dean,” she said. “And maybe…” She sighed. Truthfully, there was something she needed to get off of her chest, as well. “Dean, I miss hunting. Being with you, and Cas, and Sam a couple of weeks ago, and then again with Charlie, made me realize that it’s not just _you _I miss. Maybe… maybe I’m supposed to be doing more. Maybe you’ve been right all along.”

“I never pushed you to hunt,” Dean said. “In fact, there were several times when I pushed you _away _from hunting.”

“Yeah, but we both know I’d be a great hunter,” Ember said. “I mean, c’mon, I’m practically ready-made for the job. And it’s not like I can escape at least some facet of it, no matter what I do. And… it would solve a lot of problems, wouldn’t it?”

Dean paused, and Ember knew why: they very rarely discussed the fragile state of their relationship. Ember knew Dean was choosing his words carefully. “But you still want a child.”

“Yes,” Ember clarified.

“So I guess we still have the same problem, don’t we?” asked Dean.

“I guess we do,” Ember said somberly.

“Did you get your license yet?” Dean asked, searching for a way to changing the subject.

“No,” Ember said, “I’m still waiting on it. It should come in a few weeks.”

“But you told them you don’t want children right away, right?”

“Yeah,” Ember said. “The demon thing is too much of an issue. It has to be a kid that’s already familiar with the life. It’ll happen, someday.” She paused. “Thanks for spreading the word with your hunter friends, by the way.”

“No problem,” Dean said. 

“You _did_ spread the word, didn’t you?” Ember asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, I did,” Dean said. “Garth said he’d make some follow-up calls about some orphaned kids he dropped off with the cops about a month back in New Jersey after a ruguru got the single father. And Sam even followed up on the baby werewolf Tamara found a few months back. No dice, though. The orphaned kids have an aunt in New York, and another hunter killed the baby werewolf.”

Ember sighed. “Thanks for trying, Dean.”

***Ember POV ***

February 2, Evening

Dean’s next phone call was less than two days later, and he was in much better spirits. “Ember, is there a chance you could take a trip to Kansas for Valentine’s Day?”

Ember had been secretly hoping for the invitation, but certainly not counting on it. “I don’t see why not, why?”

“You _have_ to see the Men of Letters bunker,” he said. “It’s _awesome_.”

***Dean POV***

February 13, Evening

Ember arrived at the bunker just as Dean was finishing setting up his room. He had had more fun than he thought he would arranging his own room for the first time in his life.

“Wow,” Sam said, stopping by the door to Dean’s room while he was showing Ember around. “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Dean echoed. “I haven’t had my own room… ever. I’m making this _awesome._ I’ve got my kickass vinyl. I’ve got this killer mattress.” Dean sat down. “Memory foam, like yours,” he said, glancing at Ember. “You should try it, Sam. It remembers me.”

“And it’s clean, too!” Dean added, looking at Ember to make sure she was listening. She was nodding appreciatively. “There’s no funky smell, there’s no creepy motel stains.” Sam threw a gum wrapper on the floor, and Ember and Dean gave him identical glares. “Really?” Dean asked.

Sam pretended to look ashamed. “Sorry,” he said, going to pick up the gum wrapper.

“I’m gonna go fix us some grub,” he said.

Half an hour later, he had fixed cheeseburgers for Ember and Sam.

“God, I forgot how much I missed these,” Ember said, closing her eyes in relish as she ate the cheeseburger.

“You made these?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“Ood ee s’pised,” Ember said, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“We have a real kitchen now,” he said, answering Sam’s question.

“I know. I just didn’t think you knew what a kitchen was,” Sam said.

“Seriously? He’s never made you these?” Ember asked, finishing her bite. “So much for brotherly love.”

“I’m nesting. Okay? Eat.” Dean asked. Truthfully, he had really hoped to impress Ember. He knew how much it would mean to her that he had a home which was impervious to any kind of invasion or entrance. Even now, he knew, she feared constantly the invasions of demons and Leviathans. Sam shot him a look that told Dean that he was not fooled in the slightest. After Sam took a bite of his cheeseburger, however, he gave the same appreciative groan as Ember.

Just then, however, Dean’s cell phone rang.

“Dean! Come quick!” And then Kevin hung up.

Dean explained the situation to Ember. He apologized profusely – he was disappointed that what he had hoped would be a romantic weekend filled with sex in his new Batcave had suddenly turned into a case. Ember, however, seemed enthused.

About six hours later, Dean, Sam, and Ember found out that Kevin had translated part of the demon tablet. This meant that, for the first time in months, there was movement in regards to possibly sealing all of the demons in hell. “It’s a spell,” Kevin said. “And it’s just a few words of Enochian, but the spell has to be spoken after you finish each of the three trials.”

“Basically God built a series of tests, and when you’ve done all three, you can slam the gates. I’ve only been able to crack one of the tests so far, and it’s gross. You’ve got to kill a hound of Hell and bathe in its blood.”

“Awesome!” said Dean.

“Awesome?” asked Sam and Ember together.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “Hey, if this means icing all demons, I got no problem gutting some devil dog and letting Calgon take me away,” he said.

“Where are you gonna find one?” asked Kevin.

“Well, Hellhounds like to collect on crossroads deals, so all we’ve got to do is track down some loser who signed over his special sauce 10 years ago, and get between him and Clifford the big dead dog – easy.”

“How are you gonna _do _that?” said Kevin.

In spite of themselves, Dean and Sam both looked at Ember, who could see Hellhounds. “Look, if you want to schedule this around work, we can-…”

“Don’t bother,” Ember said, looking eager. “For this, I’ll call off.”

***Ember POV***

February 15, Evening

As it turned out, Ember wouldn’t have to call off. By Saturday morning, the group arrived in Shoshone, Idaho, at the home of the Casity family. The Casitys had struck oil ten years ago where oil should not have been, in an area that had showed other signs of being inhabited by at least one stronger demon. The boys were hired on almost immediately as farmhands, and Ember chose to stay invisible and skulk in the shadows.

By nightfall, however, they had already lost the oldest of the three Casity sisters’ husband to a Hellhound. Ember had seen the hound at the last second way across the lawn, and called to the brothers, but it had been too late.

Just as they were getting ready to leave the Casity farm and move on to Plan B, however, Sam said he was certain the demon had struck more than one deal, and that they should stay. So, they stayed.

Finally, Saturday night, Sam spotted the youngest Casity, Margo, and the patriarch taking a gun and going to hunt for “the wolf” that had killed the oldest sisters’ husband. Sam was serving the family dinner while Dean was grilling, so Ember had been with Sam. She saw the exchange, and slipped her hand into Sam’s to let him know she was there.

And suddenly, Ember saw it. “Sam! Two o’clock!” she whispered, and swung the barrel of his gun in the right direction. He fired, and the two of them heard a loud “yelp!” Sam and Ember both drew their angel blades, and Sam caught the Hellhound in its flank while Ember got its front. The hellhound tumbled, sratching Ember across the thigh. Sam knocked Ember back, pulling out her knife and going for a second stab, then a third. The third drove home through the middle of the Hellhound, and Ember knew it was done. 

Sam had started the trials.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“It wasn’t supposed to be Sam,” Dean said the next evening. 

“I know, Dean,” Ember said. “But that just wasn’t how it happened.” Dean, Sam, and Ember had made hex bags for Margo Casity, as well as for one of the farm hands that had also made a demon deal. The hex bags would hide them from the Hellhounds, and from Crowley. Dean had wanted to stay and kill the other Hellhound that would be coming for the farm hand to do the trials, but he had been outvoted.

Ember had been able to swing an extra day off with her job, and was taking an early flight back Monday morning. The fact that her thigh had needed six stitches had helped in this endeavor. Really, though, she stayed the extra day to deal with Dean’s emotional fallout since Sam had been the one to kill the Hellhound.

Ember turned to face Dean. “Dean, if you were so sure that one of you would have to die to complete the trials, why would you take them on in the first place? Did it really _never _occur to you that Sam might want to complete the trials instead of you?”

Ember could tell the answer from the look on Dean’s face. “Typical,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You two spent so much time convincing _me _not to be the one to complete the trials that it never occurred to you that it might be _Sam _you have to worry about. ‘Ember, stay right next to us the entire time,’ she mocked. ‘Ember, whatever you do, don’t kill the Hellhound yourself, you have to promise us.’… ‘Ember, you have a career, and children on the way, don’t get any more involved in this than you already are!’ God, you two are so full of shit!” Ember reigned in her irritation with great effort. Now was not the time for it. 

She started again. “Dean, we don’t know anything about these trials. We don’t know what they’ll do to Sam. We can’t worry about something we don’t even know yet. And maybe Sam’s right – with you so convinced that whoever completes the trials has to die, it was probably better for it to be someone with a little hope.”

“_It’s a suicide mission for you,´ _Sam had told Dean the day before. _“I wanna slam Hell shut too, okay? But I wanna survive it. I wanna live. And so should you. You have friends up here. Family. Ember. Hell, maybe you two could even settle down, if we manage to shut the gates. Start a family, or whatever.”_

Dean rolled over to look at Ember. “If we do shut the gates, would you want to? Start a family, I mean?”

Ember was surprised, but it quickly turned to fear and trepidation. “Dean, don’t dangle that carrot in front of me. It’s been dangled too many times, and I don’t want to be disappointed again.”

Dean opened his mouth as though to speak, but appeared to think better of it. Instead, he simply pulled her closer.

***Ember POV***

March 21, Noon

It was over a month before Ember saw Dean again. Ember didn’t suggest visiting Dean, not wanting to push their relationship to a level she didn’t feel they were ready for. Dean’s hunting didn’t bring him near Ember, either.

Finally, on March 21, Ember got a text from Sam.

**Sam Winchester Phone:** Found Cas. Lead on item discussed last time we saw him. Going for it shortly. How soon can u join? Need back-up if possible. Missouri.

The item they had discussed last time they had seen Castiel had been the angel tablet. If they were making a play for the angel tablet, they _would _need back-up. So, Ember headed to Missouri.

Upon arriving in Missouri, Ember was excited to see a familiar face. “Meg!” she exclaimed. She hadn’t seen Meg since they’d separated after fighting the Leviathans more than a year previous, but she’d heard through the grapevine that Meg had been captured by Crowley. She was surprised to see her alive, but also surprisingly pleased.

“Hey, Mutt!” Meg replied in her drawling voice. Ember had gotten used to the name Meg had taken to calling her during their time watching over Castiel in the hospital the previous year, and it no longer annoyed her. “How’s the old hospital been? Is my name still on all the boys’ toilet stalls?”

“Hey, quit the girl talk,” Dean said, and began filling Ember in on the mission for that night. Meg had in fact been tortured and held hostage for the past year, but had still avoided giving up the true location of the angel tablet – one of Lucifer’s abandoned crypts.

“Alright, Cas, Ember, and I will head in and get our Indiana Jones on. Sam, you stay outside with Meg.”

“What?” asked Sam.

“We got this,” Dean said.

“What are you talking about, Dean?” Sam asked. “You’re not going to bench me _now._ Meg can hang here, watch our backs.”

“What, now you trust Meg?” Dean asked.

“Hey, I got you this far,” Meg protested.

“To be fair, you still stabbed Bobby,” Ember reminded her.

“Shut up, Meg!” Sam and Dean both said.

“Sam, I saw your bloody rag in the trash can, okay?”

Ember stopped walking, her heart thumping. “Sam? Is this about the trials?”

Sam looked guilty. His mouth worked for a few seconds before he tried, “That wasn’t-…”

“Stop,” Dean said. “Just stop. Sam, we don’t know what’s in there, okay? And you almost let a demon get the best of you back there.”

“Sam?” Ember asked slowly.

“I did _not!”_ Sam insisted, more to Ember than to Dean. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not fine,” Dean said. “You haven’t been fine since the first trial. That’s why I prayed to Cas.”

“Trial?” asked Meg.

“Shut up, Meg,” said Sam, Dean, and Ember.

“Dean, I’m telling you, I’m okay,” Sam insisted.

“No, you’re not,” said Castiel, and all three of the looked at him with surprise. “Sam, you’re damaged in ways even I can’t heal. Dean’s right… you should stay here and protect Meg.”

Ember could see Sam’s jaw working, but they all knew he had been outvoted. “Since when do I need protecting?” asked Meg.

“Since you were held captive and tortured for over a year,” said Castiel.

“Touche,” said Meg.

And so it was decided.

***Castiel POV***

March 21, Evening

Dean had the tablet. It was in his hand. Naomi’s voice was in his head. She was telling him to kill Dean, to kill Ember, if he needed to. Castiel did not want to kill Dean. He did not want to kill Ember or Dean. He had been trained to kill Dean – he knew that now, on some amount of a conscious level. He had not had training to kill Ember. The angels did not understand how he felt for her because they had never known her personally. They thought that it was no concern, because she was a half-demon. How had he hidden that from Naomi? Castiel didn’t know.

But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was that Dean was not giving up the angel tablet, as Naomi had commanded. “I can’t let you take that, Dean,” Castiel said.

“Can’t or won’t?” Dean asked. Ember’s eyes were blown wide and fearful as she looked back and forth between the two of them.

“Both,” he answered.

Dean gave a significant look to Ember, who gave no response. He paused for a second, then asked, “How did you get out of Purgatory, Cas?”

He didn’t want to kill them. There had to be another way. Naomi was screaming in his head. And Castiel was advancing on Dean.

“Just tell me how you got out of Purgatory,” Dean said. “Be honest with me – for the first time since you’ve been back – and this is yours.”

“We don’t trust you, Castiel,” Ember said. “Something’s off about you. Who’s controlling you? Why did you kill Samandriel? How did you get out of Purgatory? Dean said he saw you die.” She was covering Dean now, backing up with him, but both were standing their ground.

_No. No, I don’t want to. It’s not a drill this time. This is real. This isn’t me. I don’t want to. I lo- I love her. I love them both._

“Cas,” said Dean. “Cas, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but if you’re in there and you can hear me, you don’t have to do this! Cas!” But Castiel had struck out against Dean, who had put up the tablet in defense of himself. And Ember had taken the trunk that the angel tablet had come out of and used her force powers to hit Castiel over the head, but it hardly distracted him. Gone were the days when she was more powerful than him…

_This isn’t right. I won’t hurt Dean. I won’t hurt Ember._

But Naomi was screaming in his head, and he could feel himself fighting, as though he had no control over his body. And he remembered. “_The apocalypse is over, and Lucifer is locked up again. Why is your demon attraction still so strong?” … “Hey, assbutt!” … “With you, this plan _might _fail. Without you, this plan _will _fail. Got that?”_

“Cas, fight this, this is not you!” Dean was screaming. “Fight it!”

Ember was screaming, too, and he could feel the effect of her power, but it was futile against him.

_What have you done to me?_

“What have you done to me, Naomi?”

He only realized he had said it aloud when Dean and Ember both shouted, “Who is Naomi? Cas?”

But she was still screaming in his head. He felt his fist collide with Dean’s face, and heard Ember scream, “No!” and launch herself at Castiel. He sent her flying, and she hit the other wall and screamed in pain, her leg twisting under her horribly, and sunk to the ground.

“_Castiel… I may be a half-demon, but I’m pretty sure I’m more _righteous _than you today.”_

But just as he remembered, he felt Dean’s wrist crack beneath his hand. The tablet had escaped from its stone encasing, and there was thunder outside. “You want it? Take it!” Dean said, his face bloody. “But you’re gonna have to kill me first. Come on, you coward. Do it. Do it!”

Why wouldn’t his vessel obey him? And Ember launched herself on top of Dean, somehow, screaming in pain as she did so. But he was still hitting both of them, and he wasn’t sure which one.

He felt himself raise his hand up one more time to finish them both, because he had listened too long to the resisting voice, and should have smited them both in the first place. “Cas… it’s me,” Dean said. “We’re family. We need you… I need you.”

But he could feel that he wouldn’t be able to resist. And suddenly there were lips on his, and he wasn’t sure how it had happened, because he hadn’t seen her coming. Shock coursed through his body, and stars exploded behind his eyes, and he dropped his angel blade and his fist without realizing he was doing so, and backed up in horror.

“I’m sorry, I’m – oh, what have I done?!” he said, alarmed.

“Heal him!” Ember screamed from his feet, gesturing at Dean, who Castiel realized with alarm was bloody and swollen.

Castiel reached down slowly and healed both of them. “I’m so sorry,” he said again.

***Dean POV***

March 21, Night

“What the hell just happened?” Dean asked. He was hurt, and confused, and his body still had the strange tingly feeling that he had come to associate with magical healing.

Castiel began to tell them both about another angel called Naomi. “So this ‘Naomi’ has been controlling you ever since she got you out of Purgatory?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” said Castiel.

“And, what? A kiss woke you up? Was it some sort of demented sleeping beauty sort of bullshit?” Ember flinched, and had not looked him in the eyes since the kiss.

“It surprised me, that’s all,” Castiel said. “A good shock seemed to be helpful.” Castiel was a terrible liar, Dean thought.

“I have to protect this tablet,” Castiel said.

“From Naomi?” asked Dean.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “And from you.”

“From me, what are you talking about?” But with one final look over his shoulder at Ember, Castiel had disappeared.

“Cas? Cas! Damn it!” 

In Castiel’s absence, Dean rounded on Ember. He was surprised to see her not looking down and avoiding his eye, but glaring at him, a challenge on her face. “What’d you have to go and kiss him for?” Dean asked.

“Well, nothing you were doing was working!” Ember snapped at him. “It’s been damn near four years since I had powers that could help in this situation, so I used the only thing available to me, and I’m damn glad I did! Don’t get your knickers in a twist because you’re still alive!”

Ember had a point there, Dean was forced to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't originally planned to put this kiss here. I had planned to put it at the end of Season 7, but it didn't seem to fit there, and it did seem to fit here. Let me know what you think.


	30. Freaks and Geeks

***Ember POV***

March 28, Afternoon

On March 28, Ember got a call that changed everything. “You still want kids, right? With a history in the hunting life?”

Ember’s heart began to pound. “Yeah? Dean, what happened?”

“Well, is it okay if they’re pretty committed to staying together, in another state? I mean… that whole license thing, you can get it switched over, right?”

“If everyone agrees, I can get an interstate compact,” Ember said. “It’ll take a bit longer, but it’ll work out in the end. Why?”

“Well, I’ve found three kids, all three teenagers, all orphaned. Their parents were killed by vampires. They were set up as ‘the next generation of hunters,’ but it was all an elaborate – well, you’ll be here soon, right? How soon can you get here?”

Ember was on the next plane.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember approached the large house in Conway Springs, Kansas with trepidation and rang the doorbell. The boy who answered it was tall with dark, coarse hair. Behind him was a smaller brunette girl with fire in her eyes.

“This is Krissy, and Josephine, and Aidan,” said Dean’s voice from just behind them.

“Dean says you’re gonna be our new guardian,” Krissy said, a challenge in her voice. “He told us you’re a half-demon. But he also says you’re trustworthy. What did you do to make him think that?”

Ember liked Krissy immediately. “Well, I helped stop the Apocalypse,” she said. “And we dated for a couple of years, too.”

***Ember POV***

April

Ember was busier in April than she had ever been in her entire life. Upon returning home from Kansas, Ember immediately put in her 30-day notice from her job. She called Garth, a hunter who was a friend of Dean’s, who agreed to check in on the children from time to time during the week, when she couldn’t be there. Dean agreed to check in on them as often as possible, as well. The kids were old enough to take care of themselves, for the most part. Josephine was nearly 18, Aidan 17, and Krissy was 15, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still a lot that they didn’t know or understand. 

It wasn’t easy, and trust was an uphill battle. Still, after a long series of discussions, the three children agreed that they weren’t ready to be on their own yet. Though they were all more independent than most children their age, they still weren’t ready for things like bills, living paycheck to paycheck, and navigating the social work system. For this reason, and largely on the recommendations of Sam and Dean, the three children lied and claimed to have known Ember in the past. In this way, Ember was able to force through an interstate compact and take immediate guardianship of the group. 

Ember spent weekends in Conway Springs, Kansas, as well as several days off. It was a sudden adjustment to her life, but one that made her very happy. She packed, broke the lease on her apartment, and moved across the country. She got a job in Conway Springs working with younger children than she had worked with in Indiana, which was somewhat less stressful. By the end of April, Ember had three children.

***Dean POV***

April 3, Afternoon

“Look, I know I said I’d check on the kids today,” Dean said over the phone, “but you’re gonna have to give me this one. We found out about the second trial.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“We have to bring an innocent soul back from Hell, and take him to Heaven,” Dean said. “And you should know… we’re bringing back Bobby.”

_“What?!”_ Ember screeched into the phone. “There’s no _way_ Bobby is in Hell!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Dean said. “But apparently Crowley was pretty pissed at him, and made some deals.”

“I’m on my way,” Ember said. “I _swear_ to God, as soon as I get there, I’ll kill that-…”

“Don’t bother coming, Sam’s already gone to Hell,” Dean said, and explained the situation. Sam had gone with a rogue reaper, Ajay, to Hell to retrieve Bobby. Apparently, Sam would be back in 24 hours.

“Okay,” said Ember. “And you’re sure there’s no reason for me to come?”

“Only Bobby’s soul will spend any time on this plane,” Dean said. “Neither of us will get to talk to him. There’s nothing to tether him here. Seriously, aren’t you coming out in two days anyway? There’s really no reason for you to come early.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Ember, “I’ll drop by and check in with you guys in a couple of days. Let me know if anything goes wrong, okay?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, and he hung up.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Sam didn’t return from Hell until almost a week later. He had ended up stuck in Purgatory. Benny, Dean’s old vampire friend, had agreed to let himself be killed in order to get to Purgatory to find and retrieve Sam.

Bobby’s soul had been returned to Heaven and the second trial had been completed, but at a great cost: Sam had returned without Benny.

Dean was miserable. One of his best friends (Castiel) had beat him to a pulp and then been kissed by his not-quite-girlfriend before disappearing. The other (Benny) had sacrificed his life for Dean and refused to return. He understood Benny’s decision – he knew it had been difficult for his friend lately. It had been so difficult that he had favored Purgatory over the trials of being a vampire committed to donated blood, shunned by both vampires and humans. Still, Dean mourned the loss of his vampire friend more than he could ever tell Sam. Ember knew, though, and she even took a trip with Dean to bury the vampire’s body in his old tomb in Louisiana.

Kevin the prophet, the brothers had learned, had been kidnapped by Crowley, leaving behind only a bunch of confusing notes on his translations regarding the third trial. Worst of all, Sam’s health was getting worse. He was sleeping more, eating less, and avoiding talking – and Dean – whenever possible.

Hunting was slow-going during April, and Dean was extremely bored, favoring almost anything over the never-ending research into Kevin’s confusing translation notes. Therefore, he was more eager than he might have been to take on the seemingly endless amount of favors Ember requested regarding the kids in Conway Springs.

The original plan had been for Garth to check in on the children on weekdays as often as possible while Ember wrapped up her affairs in Indiana, but Garth was MIA as well. Dean was the closest hunter available, being only 3 and a half hours away, so the duty fell to him instead.

“Hey, are you busy?” Ember said one day in early April.

“Yeah, I’m swimming in research on hieroglyphics in a language only God understands,” Dean said sarcastically. “What do you need?”

“Look, Krissy’s math grades are dropping, and she’s got a big test tomorrow. And Josephine said something about a guy coming over to talk to her about her parents’ will. Could you check in on them?”

Only two days after that, Ember called again. “Look, I know you were there two nights ago, but Josie and Krissy got into a big fight because he thinks she’s leading Aidan on. And I _definitely _don’t want anyone dating in that house without an adult there. Could you go over and sort them out? I’ll be up on Friday. I’ll see you then if you’re still there.”

By the end of April, Dean realized that he had somehow become a sort of pseudo-parent himself. Even more alarming, he realized that he liked it. He had a lot of respect for those three children, and was determined to ensure their safety. He also planned to ensure that they didn’t grow up to become hunters, if he had anything to do with it. He enjoyed teaching them some of the basic defense skills that their previous (poor excuse for a) mentor, Victor, had missed. He found that he liked watching football with Aidan, that Josephine was hilarious but practical, and that Krissy was tough as nails. He even found that when he was around them he desired less alcohol, and instead wanted to set a good example.

Best of all, he realized that he was spending more time with Ember than he had since they had been together. They talked or texted multiple times each day, and not just about the children. She had begun to look at him differently again, as well. It was a glance here and there, a “thank you” when he least expected it, and, of course, more sex than he’d had in years, despite the children.

Dean was quickly beginning to realize that he desperately wanted to be a part of the little family she was putting together.

***Ember POV***

May

April moved quickly into May. Ember moved to Conway Springs, Kansas, and took a job there working with younger kids. She delighted in her new duties as a parent. Sometimes, on the weekends, she would take the three kids to live at the bunker. All three of them enjoyed these trips, especially Krissy, and it kept them out of trouble. During one such trip, they were able to catch Charlie as she left after working with Sam and Dean on a case. Aidan liked Charlie immediately, and they spent a long time discussing comic books and computers.

In mid-May, Dean and Sam managed to get Kevin back with the help of the Scribe of God, Metatron, who they had managed to track down thanks to Sam’s acute research skills. Castiel was found, too, lying bleeding on the side of the road. The angel tablet had been stolen by the demons, and Castiel had been injured trying to get away. Ember knew that Dean had not yet forgiven the angel for ignoring his prayers, not trusting him with the tablet, and (of course) kissing his not-quite-girlfriend. Still, upon Kevin and Castiel’s return, Ember noticed improvement in Dean’s disposition.

Ember had hoped that even after she moved to Conway Springs that Dean would continue to have a role in the childrens’ lives, and she was not disappointed. He spent as much time in Conway Springs as he did in Lebanon at the bunker, and Ember was finding herself falling more in love with him again each day. He was wonderful with the children, he was attentive to her, and she finally began to feel that she might eventually be able to truly have a life with him. He had even kept his drinking down to a minimum since he had escaped from Purgatory, at least in front of her and the children.

The final piece of the puzzle, it seemed, was the trials. Would they kill Sam? How would Dean handle this? Would they be successful in locking the doors to Hell? In Ember’s mind, and, she knew, in Dean’s, the trials and their relationship had somehow become inexplicably linked, as though the outcome to the trials would also determine the outcome of Ember and Dean’s relationship. In a perfect world, they would finish the trials, Sam would survive, and Dean would move between Conway Springs and Lebanon, sometimes hunting, sometimes being a father, as he was now. Ember knew all too well, though, that things never turned out ideally for her, or for the Winchesters.

***Ember POV***

May 17, Afternoon

“What do you mean you ‘fucked up?’” Ember said over the phone. “How did the plan go wrong? Did you do everything without me?” The third trial was to cure a demon, and Sam and Dean had found records of an old experiment that showed them how. The plan had been simple.

  * Step 1: Dig up the two pieces of Abaddon, an extremely strong demon that Sam and Dean had defeated a year ago. Abaddon was too strong to be killed with the demon knife, so Sam and Dean had trapped her in her vessel and separated her body from her head.
  * Step 2: Sew the body to the head, keeping Abaddon trapped in the vessel.
  * Step 3: Begin the process of curing the demon, which took several hours.
  * Step 4: Ember would return home from work and join them.

“Look, you can’t be more pissed off than I am!” Dean exclaimed, yelling into the receiver.

Ember doubted that, but she let him continue.

It was Sam who spoke next. “Look, we’re really sorry, Ember. Crowley called. He’s trying to force our hand, threatening to kill people we’ve saved in the past. He’s trying to get the demon tablet, but we’ll figure out something to save them. We’re headed to Prosperity, Indiana to figure it all out.”

“Okay, what does that have to do with the third trial?”

“Well, we sort of got distracted, and she escaped.”

Ember screamed with rage. She had just pulled into the driveway of the house in Conway Springs, and in her anger she managed to uproot every single bush in the front yard without actually touching them. Not five seconds after the bushes went flying past the windows, Ember saw the shadows of Krissy and Aidan readying shotguns from inside the house.

“I gotta go, Sam,” Ember said. 

“What?”

“Look, I just accidentally uprooted all the shrubbery, and I think the kids are gonna shoot me. Good luck with that. Get another demon while you’re in Indiana, okay?”

“That’s the plan,” Sam said, coughing.

Ember would normally have asked Sam how he was feeling, but in her anger, she simply hung up.


	31. Sacrifice

***Ember POV***

May 18

“Well, we don’t have a demon,” said Sam on speaker phone the following day. “But we know how to get one.”

“Okay,” Ember said. “Enlighten me.” She had picked up pad thai for the kids, and was holding it away from herself because she hated the smell.

“You know how we have a dungeon now?” Dean asked. 

“Dean, do you know how many sentences you’ve started with ‘you know how we have a dungeon now?’ “ Ember asked. Dean had managed to work the newly found dungeon into nearly every conversation he’d had with Ember in the week since he’d found it.

“Do I _want _to know?” asked Sam.

“No,” said Ember and Dean at the same time.

“This time I’m serious, though,” said Dean. “Remember all of those manacles that are made for trapping demons? All I have to do is get close enough to Crowley when we supposedly surrender to him, and I can slap some handcuffs on him.”

“Wait, whoa, whoa. You’re going to try to cure _Crowley?” _Ember set the pad thai down on the kitchen table.

“He’s not letting any other demon near us,” Sam said. “He knows the demon trials have to do with demons and Hell and hellhounds, and he’s not stupid. He’s handling us personally from now on, he says.”

“You’re both crazy, you know that?” Ember said. “Nuts, both of you.”

“Yeah, but you love us,” said Dean. 

“So when is this deal going down with Crowley then?” Ember asked.

“Noon tomorrow, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. At Bobby’s old place,” said Dean.

“Shit!” exclaimed Ember. “Guess I’m taking off work again then.” She divided the pad thai into plates and unpacked it. “Kids! Dinner!” she yelled.

“What’s dinner?” said Dean interestedly.

“Pad thai,” said Ember.

“You hate pad thai,” said Dean.

“I was outvoted,” Ember grumbled.

“Wanna come here for dinner?” Dean asked.

“I probably ought to, if you’re heading north tomorrow,” Ember said.

“First light,” Dean said. “You’ll come tonight, then? We have a dungeon now, you know…”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Sam said in the background.

“Yeah, as soon as the kids are done eating and we talk a little bit I’ll be on my way.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The first part of the plan went off without a hitch. Dean managed to trap Crowley in manacles, and the three of them successfully took Crowley back to an abandoned church in South Dakota.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked Sam as they prepared to begin the ritual to “cure” Crowley.

“Honestly? For the first time in a long time, it feels like we’re gonna win. I’m good.”

Ember squeezed Sam’s hand reassuringly. She knew he was more scared than he was letting on. She was scared for him, too. She knew the trials were making him very sick.

“All right, well, no dancing in the end zone until we’re finished,” said Dean. “What’s the good father’s play book say now?”

“Well, now that we got the consecrated ground, I slip Crowley one dose of blood every hour for 8 hours and seal the deal with a bloody fist sandwich. That should do it,” said Sam.

“Doesn’t your blood have to be purified by confession or something?” asked Ember, remembering the ritual they had discussed with her the other day.

“Have you ever done the ‘forgive me father’ before?” Dean asked.

“Once, when we were kids,” Sam said, avoiding their eyes. “Which is why I have no clue what to say now.”

“Well, I could give you suggestions, if you want,” said Dean.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” said Sam.

“Well, I’m just spit-balling here,” said Dean, “But if I were you, I’d start with Ruby, killing Lilith, letting Lucifer out, losing your soul, and not looking for me when I went to Purgatory, for starters.”

“Dean, don’t be a dick,” Ember said, as Sam began to look more and more ashamed and uncomfortable.

“And how about what you did to Penny Markle in the sixth grade?” Dean yelled after Sam as he took more gear into the abandoned church. “Why don’t you lead with that?”

“That was you, Dean,” Sam responded.

As soon as Sam was in the church, Ember hissed, “You didn’t _really _have to bring up _all_ of those things.”

“He asked!” Dean said defensively.

Ember rolled her eyes.

Just then, Castiel appeared. “Dean, I need your help.”

“_Now_, Cas, _seriously_?” Ember said to the angel.

“Little busy, Cas, take a number,” Dean said.

“I’m afraid this can’t wait,” Castiel said. “Naomi has taken Metatron.”

Ember looked at Dean. “Wait, the Scribe of God? I thought you said that dude was in deep cover in Colorado?”

“How do you know Metatron?” Dean asked Castiel.

“I’ve been working with him on the angel trials,” Castiel said.

“The _what?”_ said Ember and Dean.

“We’re gonna shut it all down,” said Castiel. “Heaven, Hell, all of it.”

“Metatron?” Dean asked in disbelief. “The guy who was full-on crazy, cat-lady-hoarder angel yesterday – now he wants to save Heaven?”

“Yes, he wants to,” Castiel said. “But I’m the only one who can. I can’t fail Dean, not on this one. I need your help.”

“Are you sure, Cas?” Ember said. “This sounds like another half-cocked plan to me.”

“Metatron is the Scribe of God,” Castiel said, turning to her. “He knows what’s on the tablet. Don’t you think the angels should stay in Heaven for awhile? They’re all fighting up there in Heaven, and eventually if Heaven isn’t sealed, it’s all going to spill over on Earth.”

“Look, Cas, that’s all well and good, okay, but you’re asking me to leave Sam. And we’ve got Crowley in there tied and tressed. Now if anybody needs a chaperone while doing the heavy lifting, it’s Sam,” said Dean.

“You should go,” said Sam, walking up behind them. “Seriously.”

“What, and leave you here with the King of Hell?” asked Dean.

“I’ll be here,” Ember said. “Nobody’s going to escape this time, trust me.”

And so it was decided. “Start the injections,” Dean told them. “If I’m not back in 8 hours, finish it. No questions, no hesitation.” And so Dean and Ember kissed each other goodbye.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember was glad she stayed. After the second of 8 injections, Crowley bit Sam’s arm. While Sam was washing up, Crowley spit out Sam’s blood and attempted to call another demon, but Ember covered him in holy water instead, threatening to cut his arm off if he tried it again.

After the fifth trial, it became obvious to Ember that Sam was getting weaker and weaker as the trials continued.

“Sam, you know there is a strong likelihood these trials will kill you,” Ember whispered.

“I know,” said Sam. He looked at her carefully. “I’ve known for awhile.”

“What does Dean think about this?” Ember asked softly.

“Dean still thinks I’ll pull through,” Sam admitted with a guilty look. “But Ember, if I finish this – if I make up for all that crap Dean mentioned earlier – it’ll all be worth it.”

Ember wound her arms around Sam, who was sitting crosslegged on the floor in the corner of the abandoned church. “Sam, nobody blames you for any of that stuff anymore. You don’t have to make up for any of that stuff.”

“I know,” Sam said. “But it’s more than that. You and Dean can have a happy life together, you know? I mean, I want that… I almost wish I’d stayed away after I fell into the cage, except… I didn’t enjoy the cage much.”

“Sam, Dean was never truly _happy _when you were in Hell. You must know that,” Ember told him. “We tried that, remember?”

“Well, yeah, but at least part of that was _because_ I was in _Hell_,” Sam pointed out. “You’ve said so yourself. Plus, me and Dean, we’ve both been to Hell, and we’ve both been to Purgatory, now, and we’ve even both been to Heaven. I know which one I prefer, and I don’t know when I’ll get another chance. I’m not taking the tour again. I want it to be over, Ember. I want to be up there, with Bobby, and Mom, and Dad. I’m sick, and I’m tired of all the pain. I mean, sure, living would be great, but if I can put the demons back in the box, for good? What more can a hunter ask for?”

Ember hugged him, tears in her eyes. 

“Ember, you have to promise me,” Sam said. “Promise me you won’t let him try to bring me back. Not this time. Not from Heaven.”

“I can try,” Ember said. “But you know Dean as well as I do.”

“I know,” Sam said. “Just… try, okay?”

Ember hugged him. “I’ll try,” she said. Then she added, “I wish you’d let me kill that stupid hellhound.”

“I don’t,” said Sam.

“There’s nothing I can do to talk you out of this, is there?” she asked him, begging now.

“No,” he whispered.

Ember wished that Dean was back. She called him… but there was no answer.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

After the seventh injection, Sam was looking horrible. Ember was running cold towels back and forth from a creek outside just to keep his fever down enough to finish the trials. It was almost over though… and Sam would be dead. She had been so busy with the children. How could she not have realized it had gotten this bad? But it was Sam’s choice.

Suddenly, just as Sam was about to finish the third trial, Dean burst back through the door. “Sammy, stop!”

Sam froze, his hand to Crowley’s mouth. They were so close. Crowley was showing signs of repentance, and Sam’s arm was glowing white…

“Easy there,” Dean said. “Okay. Just take it easy. We’ve got a slight change in plan.”

“What?” Sam asked. “What’s going on? Where’s Cas?”

“Metatron lied,” Dean said. “If you finish this trial, you’re dead, Sam.”

Sam looked at Ember, then back at Dean. “So? Look at him. Look at him! Look how close we are! Other people will die if I don’t finish this!”

“Think about it,” said Dean. “Think about what we know. Pulling souls from Hell, curing demons, hell, ganking a hellhound! We have enough knowledge on our side to turn the tide here. But I can’t do it without you.”

Ember was caught in the middle. She knew what Dean was doing. He didn’t want Sam to die. She didn’t want Sam to die, either, but she also wasn’t sure if that ship had already sailed. She knew there was a strong possibility that if they stopped the trials now, Sam would still die, and it would be for nothing. And she desperately wanted the trials completed.

“You can barely do it _with_ me!” Sam exclaimed. “I mean, you think I screw up everything I try. You think I need a chaperone, remember?”

“Come on, man, that’s not what I meant,” Dean said, looking at Ember for support.

“No, it’s exactly what you meant,” said Sam. “You wanna know what I confessed in there? What my greatest sin was? It was how many times I let you down.”

“Sam,” Ember said gently.

“I can’t do that again,” Sam said, still insistent.

“Sam,” Dean said.

“What happens when you’ve decided I can’t be trusted, _again_?” Sam asked. “Either of you? I’m a… I’m a third wheel! I always take… I always drive you away from each other, somehow or another, with… with secrets, with demon blood, or just by showing up! Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch two people who so, _so _deserve to be happy, just keep _missing_ it, because I keep screwing up? And… who are you gonna turn to next time you break up, instead of me? Another angel, another… vampire?”

Ember was shocked. He had hidden all of this from her? She had thought he was her best friend, that he understood that they no longer held any of those things against him…

“Hold on, hold on!” Dean said. “You seriously think that? Because none of it – _none_ of it – is true. Listen, man, I know we’ve had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I’ve said some junk that set you back on your heels. But Sammy… come on.”

Ember had run to hug him, and was crying into his lapels. “Sam, I thought you knew… I thought we talked about this? This isn’t what I want! This isn’t what _Dean_ wants! Don’t do it because of that!”

“I killed Benny to save you!” Dean was yelling. “I’m willing to let this bastard, and all the sons of bitches that killed Mom walk because of you. Don’t you _dare_ think that there is anything, past or present that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that! I’m begging you!”

Sam was crying now, and Ember was crying, too. Slowly, though, he let the blood run out of his hand. He was breathing hard, and his fever was raging; Ember could feel it through his clothing. She wanted to say something to Dean, to tell him she wasn’t sure if Sam wasn’t beyond saving, but it was happening so fast. She wished she’d been able to stall Sam for longer, but she’d barely been able to make things take this long.

“How do I stop?” Sam asked.

“Just let it go,” Dean said. 

“I can’t,” Sam said. “It’s in me, Dean, you don’t know what this feels like.”

“Dean,” said Ember, “Feel him. Dean, I’m not sure if, even if we stop now…”

But Dean was determined. “Listen, we will figure it out. Okay? Just like we always do.” And he tied a rag around Sam’s hand. Sam was struggling to keep upright; his weight was mostly on Ember. Dean pulled him into a hug, though, and Ember almost staggered back as the weight left her abruptly.

“Dean, can you feel him? Dean, maybe it-…” Ember started.

Suddenly, Sam doubled over in pain. Dean and Ember each took one of his arms, and together they raced outside. “Castiel! Castiel!”

But outside, Ember saw why Castiel was not appearing. All around them, coming from the sky, were the angels… falling to Earth.


	32. I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

***Dean POV***

May 20, Very early morning

"Why didn't you call me when he got this sick?"

"I _did,´ _Ember said. She was sitting across from Dean, both of them on either side of Sam's hospital bed.

"Why didn't you text me?"

"I _did. _Dean, have you even looked at your phone?"

He hadn't. He really probably should have done that. Things had been so busy, with Castiel and Naomi… he'd lost track of time, to be honest. He had noticed that that tended to happen when angels fly you around all over the United States.

"Why didn't you stall Sam?"

"I _did_," she said again. "Otherwise he would've gone through with the trials. Besides, it wasn't only _my _job to notice how sick he's been. _I _haven't been the one that's been around him all the time. _I've _been with my kids."

Ember's words hurt him. He knew he had been an asshole to her first, but he still felt as though she had somehow gone for the jugular. She had suggested that he hadn't done everything he could to protect Sam, and he felt the anger rise up inside him before he could stop it. "Well, you should've tried harder!" he snapped.

Ember's face contorted. "Don't blame me just because you were the one who got him into this!" Ember snapped. "And now my guess is you're going to try something stupid to save him, like go to a damn crossroads demon and sell your soul again."

"I would never-…"

"Sam doesn't want to be saved, Dean."

Dean stopped, looking at her curiously, his face twisting in disgust. "Yeah, he told us, remember? He wanted to sacrifice himself so that we could be happy, and prove to me that he wasn't-… that he wasn't-…" Dean slammed his fist into the wall, unable to look at Sam or Ember anymore.

"Dean, it's more than that," Ember said. "Sam talked to me… before you got there. He told me some of what he said when you arrived, but there was more to the story, too."

This surprised Dean. "What are you talking about?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Dean, Sam told me he's known he was probably going to die for awhile."

The words cut Dean as though with a knife, and he looked away from Ember, angry again. "Then he should've-…"

"What would you have done?" Ember asked, and Dean fell silent.

"Dean, Sam pointed out that you've both been to Hell, and Purgatory, and even Heaven. He reminded me that going to these places is just another day for you two. He's right… I never know when you're gonna get stuck in Hell, or Purgatory, or in 1947, for Christ's sake! He said he wanted it done, he wanted it over… he wasn't sure when he was going to get another chance to go to Heaven, and if he got to go to Heaven, he… he wanted to stay there. He made me promise that if he died, we'd leave him well enough alone."

"I didn't make that promise," Dean said angrily.

"It's what _he wants,", _snapped Ember. "You owe him that."

"I _owed_ him a better life!" Dean yelled. "He did the trials because _I _thought it was a good idea, and he kept it up because he didn't want to disappoint _me, _and then he stopped them because _I _interfered, so we didn't even _do _anything for him to die _for!"_

Ember's face contorted in fury. "Well, I _tried_ to tell you-…" She cut herself off, and Dean could tell she was calming herself with effort.

Finally she said, "Dean, this isn't like when you guys went to Hell, or Purgatory. Sam's going to _Heaven._ He'll be with your mother, and your father, and that's what happens! People _die_! And you can't keep circumventing-…"

"I'll bind Death again if I have to!"

At that Ember's face grew dark. "Dean, this has _got_ to stop. It's not _right._ It's a goddamn miracle you haven't been trapped in some other damn plane of existence or Hell or whatever, and if he dies, for God's sake, _leave him be. _Don't drag him back here just so that he can spend fifty more years getting sliced open or sent to the future or whatever the hell happens-…"

"He's my brother!" Dean said as if this ended the argument.

The window broke suddenly, and Dean knew that Ember could no longer control her anger at the situation. Sure enough, Ember said, "Damn it, Dean, I can't talk to you when you're like this. I'm gonna get some food. Maybe you'll be reasonable after some pie."

-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

Another day went by, with no change in Sam's condition. That day, Sam was transferred to New York, which had a hospital with a specialization in severe trauma like Sam's, and Dean went with him. Ember was still angry at Dean, and still disagreed with him on the best course of action. Still, she agreed to take a flight to New York as soon as she checked in with the children and got things squared away back in Kansas.

In New York, however, Dean was met with more bad news. "The MRI shows massive internal burns affecting many of the major organs," said Sam's doctor. "Oxygen to the brain has been severely deprived. The coma is the result of the body doing everything in its limited power to protect itself from further harm… If your brother continues on this trajectory, the machines might keep him alive, but…"

"He'll be dead?" asked Dean.

"Technically, yes," said the doctor. "I'm afraid so."

So Dean prayed to Castiel again, but Castiel either couldn't come or wouldn't come.

_As usual_, he thought. "Screw it," he said finally. And so he prayed to all of the angels. "Okay, listen up. This one goes out to any angel with their ears on. This is Dean Winchester, and I need your help. The deal is this. Linwood Memorial Hospital, Randolph, New York. The first one who can help me gets my help in return, and you know that ain't nothing. Hell, it's no secret that we haven't always seen eye to eye, but you know that I'm good for my word. And I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't needing."

-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-

"I'm at the airport," Ember said on speaker phone. "I'll be in New York in a few hours. Can you come pick me up?"

"Well, change of plans," said Dean hesitantly. "Um… we'll be back in Kansas in a few days."

"What?"

"Sam woke up," Dean said. He held his breath.

There was a long pause. "Dean Winchester, what did you do?"

There were only two directions to go with this, and both of them were likely to end in disaster. "I prayed to the angels."

"You did _what?!" _Ember exclaimed.

Dean made his voice sound excited. "I was desperate! But it's okay, it's fine! There was… some fighting, but it's okay! One of the angels was able to heal Sam, and we'll be back in a few days."

"Dean, Cas said Sam was messed up 'in ways even he couldn't heal', and he's a pretty high-ranking angel. How did an angel manage to heal Sam?" He could hear the anger in her voice. He could hear hope, too, but he knew she was too smart for that.

"I don't know! It's… look, I'm just glad it happened, okay?"

"Dean, the doctor said he was brain-dead. I'm pretty sure most of the angels want you dead. And I _also_ know you have the King of Hell in the trunk of your car. So I'm gonna ask you again. _Dean Winchester, what did you do?"_

Dean covered the receiver and turned to the angel, Ezekiel, who was currently possessing Sam. He shrugged.

"You cannot tell her," the angel said. "It is too dangerous."

"Who is that?" said Ember from the other end of the phone.

"It's nobody," Dean said. "It's Sam."

"Put Sam on the phone," said Ember.

"He's not well enough yet," said Ezekiel.

"What?" Ember said, and Dean realized with a start that he had forgotten to cover the receiver again. "I can hear Sam. Dean Winchester, _please _do not tell me you had _Crowley_ possess Sam. _What did you do?"_

It was Ezekiel who spoke up, then, with an accusatory look at Dean. "I am the angel Ezekiel," he said. "I was injured in the fall. For the time being, I am possessing Sam. We are healing each other. He cannot know that I am here. He is not ready to awaken yet, but he will be in a couple of days. At that point, he will go on with his normal life and no one need know I am buried within him. Then, when we are both healed, I will leave."

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Dean shut his eyes in anticipation. Finally, Ember said, "Ezekiel, put Dean back on the phone."

Ezekiel did. "Dean, how _could_ you!?" Ember screeched. "How did an angel possess Sam!? Sam would never consent to this!"

Dean remembered what Ezekiel had shown him in Sam's head. _Can you promise that this time it will be final? That if I'm dead, I stay dead? Nobody can reverse it, nobody can deal it away, and nobody else can get hurt because of me._ "Sam was about to die, and I did what I had to!" Dean responded.

"Not. Answering. My question," Ember said tersely.

"Ezekiel showed himself to Sam as me."

"Okay, and was this _Ezekiel's _idea, or _yours?"_

"Ezekiel's, but only after everything else had been tried. Cas said he's a good angel. 'A good soldier,' he said."

"Oh, great, because _Cas_ has had a lot of good ideas lately," Ember said sarcastically.

Dean felt his anger rise at Ember, even though he himself had been angry at Castiel only days before. "Look, whatever you do, just _don't tell Sam,´_ Dean said.

"Why?" snapped Ember. "Because he could kick Ezekiel out and it could kill him? Dean, didn't we discuss this in the hospital?"

"What was I supposed to do, just leave him to die?" Dean yelled into the phone.

"Yes!" Ember said.

And Dean hung up on her.

Twenty minutes later, Ember called back. Dean thought about not taking the call, but it occurred to him that he needed to make sure that she wouldn't tell Sam about Ezekiel. "Look," Ember said. "I'll keep your secret." _Thank God._ "But this is it, Dean. I'm done. Don't call me. Don't come around my children. I don't want to be involved in any more ridiculous 'Winchester cheating death' drama."

"Fine," Dean snapped. "I did what I had to. If you can't understand that, then have a good life."

***Ember POV***

June 15, Evening

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Ember had just checked on all three kids, and was about to head to bed herself, when the phone rang. "It was a number Ember didn't recognize, so she picked it up with more than a bit of trepidation.

"Ember?" said the person on the other end.

"Cas?!" Ember said excitedly. "Jesus, I haven't heard from you since before the Fall! Sam said that Metatron took your grace, and-…"

"Hi. Look, I hate to ask, but… Dean's been really busy with Sam –…"

"Yeah he has," grumbled Ember.

"Is everything okay?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah," said Ember, hurrying to cover up her slip. "It's a long story. Where are you? I haven't heard from you in weeks. Sam said you were human now, and I've been so wor-…"

"Yeah," said Castiel. "I'm nearby, actually, at Dean and Sam's, except… well, some things have come up. I'm awfully embarrassed, but… if you're willing, I could really use some help…"

***Castiel POV***

June 16, Morning

It was early in the morning. Castiel had awoken early at Ember's. He had found some ingredients in the kitchen, and made some bacon. He had learned to do this when he worked at the soup kitchen, and was extremely proud of his knowledge.

As he had hoped, Ember was the first one to stagger down the stairs. "Whoa, Cas!" she exclaimed when she saw the bacon. "Jesus, wow, thanks!" Her smile lit up her face, and Castiel felt an uncomfortable swooping in his stomach. He recognized it, because he had always felt this way around Ember… but now that he was human, it was so, _so_ much worse…

Ember piled some bacon on a plate and went to sit next to Castiel. "Cas, are you sure you need to leave this evening? I mean, we could _really _use this sort of culinary talent…"

Castiel glowed at the compliment, but nodded. "Dean told me I would need to keep moving, even if I came here. The girl I told you about last night, Rachel, was proof that reapers can find me, if they're really looking."

Ember frowned when Castiel mentioned Dean's name, and Castiel caught the look. It marred her previously smiling face, and he was almost sad he had brought up Dean. In the end, however, curiousity got the better of him. "Ember, why did you and Dean break up again?"

Ember looked at him, and she appeared to be weighing her words, and possibly considering how much she wanted to say. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said.

Finally, Ember shook her head. "No, it's okay. It's not like I have any loyalty to Dean anymore anyway. The only Winchester I still talk to is Sam, and to be honest, he might actually be better off if you _did _know. It's just…"

Castiel looked at her questioningly. "Cas, you have to promise that even if you take this up with Dean, or even Sam… you can't tell _anyone_ else. Okay?"

Who was he going to tell? It's not like he talked to _anyone_ else. "Good point," said Ember when he explained this.

Once again, Ember seemed to be weighing her words, and finally she said, "How much do you know about… about the end of the trials? About Sam… you said that he was 'damaged in ways even you couldn't heal.' Remember?"

Castiel thought back to what Dean had told him on the phone that first night after the angels had fallen. "Dean said… he said he was dying. But… he said there was an angel healing him. Ezekiel." But now that Castiel thought about this, it didn't seem to make sense. He had been so caught up in surviving, and all the nuances of being human, that he hadn't really thought about Dean and Sam. Now, however, he realized that something seemed horribly fishy.

"Is that what he told you?" Ember asked, and her voice turned cold.

"Ember… what happened?" He wished he still had his angel powers, and that he could read her mind… but he couldn't.

Ember told him that Sam had been ready for death, that he had wanted it – for some of the wrong reasons, perhaps, but possibly for some of the right reasons. She explained that Dean had made a deal with Ezekiel to heal Sam from the inside. She explained that Ezekiel had posed as Dean so that Sam would consent.

"Why would he do that?" Castiel said.

"I'll tell you why," Ember said. "Because Dean is afraid to be alone, that's why. He pushes others away, but he's terrified to be alone. The fact that he would go against Sam's wishes, after all of the suffering Sam has been through…"

"Not Dean," said Castiel. "Ezekiel."

"What?" asked Ember.

"Ezekiel was a good soldier, a good warrior. Kind-hearted, and always obeyed. He was never the first to kill, nor anxious for leadership. He was never ambitious. But he would never so readily break a rule that is so important to angels, particularly if he were not commanded by a superior. Ezekiel would never possess a human with dubious consent."

Ember looked sour, and Castiel thought for a moment. "Perhaps the fall has scared him. I will visit him tomorrow. I should see if I can help."

"Cas, that's a terrible idea," Ember said, looking suddenly fearful.

"Ember, you must understand… this is my responsibility. I must do what I can to help."

Ember shook her head. "I shouldn't have told you," she said. "Can't you just… can't you just call them?"

Castiel thought about this for a second. "I suppose that would be safer, given that I am human now," he agreed.

With trepidation, Castiel dialed Dean's number. "Dean," Castiel said. "Would you please put Ezekiel on the phone?"

There was silence, then Dean said bitingly, "I take it you made it to Ember's okay."

"Yes, thank you," Castiel said pleasantly.

There was no further response, but a few moments later a voice that sounded like Sam, but was not quite Sam, answered the phone. "Castiel, I presume?"

"Ezekiel," answered Castiel. "How are you? After the fall?"

"I am hurt," said Ezekiel calmly from the other end of the line. "What you did was unforgiveable, Castiel."

"I'm sorry, Ezekiel," said Castiel miserably. "I was tricked. I-…"

"I know," said Ezekiel. "But other angels will not be so kind."

"I know," said Castiel. "I wanted to ask you about Sam. How is he doing?"

"He is hurt very badly," said Ezekiel. "As am I. We are healing each other."

Castiel was silent for a minute. Then he said, "Ezekiel, why would you go against Sam's wishes to die? Against his wishes to be possessed?"

Ezekiel paused. "It is a time for angels to reconsider our rules, Castiel. You taught all of us that. You should know, more than anyone, the value of the Winchesters owing you a favor. I am doing what I must." He paused again. "Besides, is this not what you would have done? Would you allow a Winchester to die?"

Castiel paused to consider his answer to that, but Ezekiel spoke again. "Do not call on me again, Castiel. Sam will begin to get suspicious."

"Ezekiel, I-…"

But it was Dean who spoke next. "Look, Cas, I'm sorry, okay? Call _me_, if you _really_ need something. But otherwise… just, until Sam's better…"

Castiel looked at Ember glumly. "I understand, Dean. I'll stay away, from now on."

When Castiel hung up the phone, he looked over at Ember. He wasn't sure what to say about the conversation he had just had, or how he should react to it.

"Dean lied to you," Ember said angrily, taking the matter out of his hands. "He didn't want you to know about Ezekiel. Really, it was Ezekiel that didn't want you at the bunker." She scoffed. "Assholes."

Castiel thought for a moment. He felt less hurt, knowing now that Dean really _did_ want his company. And, he supposed he could understand why Dean had turned him away, even better now than he had before. He had been trying to protect Sam, even more than Castiel had originally thought.

He could also understand why Dean had lied to him about the situation. From a strategic standpoint, Dean had been right in playing this close to the vest. Castiel knew that Dean made no exceptions and took no chances when it came to Sam's well-being. "I don't understand," said Castiel. "What is so bad about wanting Sam to live? I agree that he should not have been… deceived, in this way. But aren't these mistakes part of what make you human?"

Ember had finished the bacon, and put the plate in the sink, slamming it with perhaps more gusto than she needed to. "I want Sam alive as much as anyone," she said. 'That's not the part I'm angry about."

Castiel looked at her curiously.

"I mean, there's the obvious part, that it should've been _Sam's decision_, and that Dean and Ezekiel did this without _Sam's consent._ And then there's the fact that we don't know anything about Ezekiel… I mean, obviously he's changed from how you remember him. And who knows when Ezekiel's going to take a notion to rebel, to use Sam's body for whatever the hell he wants…"

"I don't think Ezekiel would-…" Castiel began.

"But it's more than that, Cas," Ember said. "Sam had a chance to go to _Heaven_. And he _chose_ to go to Heaven. After… after Purgatory, after the trials, after watching his mother and his girlfriend burn on the ceiling, after Lucifer. His soul spent more than 120 _years _in that damn cage, and after _all that_, he had a _chance, _and Dean _stole_ that from him. You know how the Winchesters live. One day they're fine, and the next they're, I don't know, 500 years in the past, or _burning in Hell!_ Who can tell when he'll get the opportunity to go to Heaven again – _if he ever does!'_

Castiel had not thought about this, but now that Ember explained it, he was startled by his friends' decision.

"Does Dean understand this?" Castiel asked.

"Yes, Dean understands it," Ember said darkly, beginning to rinse the dishes. "He just doesn't _care_. He doesn't know what to do without Sam. He's scared to be alone. He's being selfish. This, on top of… of him never being around, never wanting to settle down, and all the other dumb decisions he's made… how can I be in a relationship with someone when I'm constantly scared they're going to do something _stupid_?"

Castiel thought about this as he walked over to help Ember with the dishes. He thought about Dean, and Ember, and their pasts, both together and apart from each other. Finally he said, "I suppose I understand. It must hurt you, especially, after you've had to work so hard for the chance to get into Heaven, being a half-demon. It's like Dean is throwing that away, for Sam."

Ember froze, both hands still covered in water and soap suds. She turned to Castiel, and for a second he thought that perhaps she might slap him. Her face went through several emotions – angry, upset, devastated. Finally, Ember dropped the plates into the sink and turned off the water, and Castiel realized that she was crying. There were large tears rolling down her cheeks, and she was trying not to look at him.

Without knowing what he was doing, without thinking about it, Castiel reached out to Ember and pulled her into his arms. He remembered, as though from another lifetime, the last time he had been forced to provide comfort to her, when she had been confronted at her home by Alastair. _I'm not accustomed to dealing with crying women…_ How things had changed. She smelled like oranges and demon, and despite her tears, he felt his human body respond to her nearness. He stepped back.

"I'm sorry, Cas," she said, wiping her eyes. "I… just…"

"I didn't mean to upset you," Castiel said.

"No, you're right. Maybe that is why… why it hit me so hard. That doesn't change anything though," she said. "What Dean did is still wrong."

"Undoubtedly," Castiel said.

Ember looked surprised. "Really?"

"You've given me your reasons, and I agree with them," he said simply.

She appeared to have cheered up somewhat, and smiled wanly. "Thanks, Castiel," she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me through Seasons 6 and 7, and even 8, which I feel were some of the more boring parts of this fanfiction! Now as we go into Season 9, things start to get crazy. I feel like this chapter ended up being some of my best writing, especially toward the end. Let me know what you think in your reviews!


	33. I'm No Angel

***Ember POV***

July 13, Evening

ONE MONTH LATER

“Hey Aidan, what’s going on?” Ember said, answering the phone from her job. She was worried immediately – none of the kids called while she was at work unless it was an emergency. She could hear thunderclaps outside, and she worried immediately that Josephine had wrecked her car. Ember was working late, and it was already dark outside.

“I just wanted to let you know that I went ahead and let Cas in,” Aidan said.

“You’re sure it was really Cas?” Ember said, immediately worried.

“Yeah. When he realized you weren’t there, he did the holy water, and the salt, and the silver, _and _the angel expulsion sigil, and he still just looked like a drowned puppy dog on the porch. So yeah, I’m sure it was Cas.”

Ember sighed. “Thanks for letting him in.Good job with the checking._”_

“Is he going to stay more than a couple of days this time? He gets thinner every time he shows up, seriously.”

“I suppose it must be really bad, if you noticed it,” she chided the boy gently. “But, you know how he is. He never wants to stay for long.”

Ember wished Castiel _could_ stay longer. Every time he was over, she felt she was constantly smiling. He called often, even while he was away, at her request, usually from payphones. She had always told him to keep in touch, but it was only since he became human that he seemed to have taken her request literally. Honestly, she rather thought he was bored.

Ember also knew, however, that Castiel couldn’t afford to stay with her for very long. At most, he stayed two days, but usually only one, always coming and going under cover of nightfall. Then he had to move on. “I appreciate your hospitality,” he always said. “You can’t know what this means to me. I feel so lonely all the time. You keep me fed, and clothed… I wish I could do more for you.”

“Are you sure you have to leave?” she would ask. “What about the warding? Shouldn’t that protect you?”

But he would shake his head. “I can’t allow you and your family to be hurt on my account,” he would say. “No one can know I come here from time to time.”

And she would nod, and allow him to leave. She always missed him, however. 

When Castiel was around, things always seemed to get done more quickly. Castiel, it transpired, was a far better cook than Ember or any of the three children. Apparently, he had picked up a lot of things in homeless shelters and food kitchens. It seemed to be one of the few things that came naturally for him, now that he was a human. He also cleaned, and spent time helping the children with homework, and even teaching them fighting skills.

“Jesus, Cas, you’re like the…” _Husband I never had._ “Never mind. Cas, you don’t have to do all of this. I know it’s been hard for you, all of this new humany stuff. Let me take care of you.”

“Nonsense,” Castiel said. “You give me the gift of your hospitality, as often as I can risk it. I do as much as I can to earn my keep.”

Ember enjoyed the evenings with Castiel more than almost any other time in her life. All three of the children would spend their evenings at various appointments – studying, with friends, or on various forms of social media. Ember would watch television or play video games, and Castiel would always join her. He asked questions about even the most ridiculous or mundane show or video game. Somehow, these questions always turned into deep conversations about the human existence. 

Over the summer, Ember and Castiel talked about everything – Dean, Sam, the apocalypse, Castiel’s days as “God”, Ember’s job, therapy in general, the children, Ember’s relationship with Dean, and Castiel’s time on the run.

And one day, when Castiel left in early July, it occurred to Ember that she hadn’t thought about Dean in weeks. Not too long after that, Ember realized she was falling for him.

***Castiel POV***

July 13

Castiel was in way over his head. Being human was difficult enough. He had been around a long time, however, and was a fairly intelligent being, so most of the new “human” things were more “annoying” than “difficult”. Urinating and defecating fell into that category. Eating and drinking were a little more difficult, as was finding a comfortable place to sleep and live. He had never been one for material things, even compared with other angels, so he didn’t mind living with the homeless, or sleeping in mildly uncomfortable places. He had also learned enough from Dean and Sam to know, generally, how to survive in less than ideal circumstances.

The way Castiel saw it, he had three major problems. The first, obviously, was that since he unwittingly helped Metatron cast all of the angels out of Heaven, they were all out for blood. He had done the best he could – he had gotten a tattoo to ward himself, and an additional tattoo to ward off reapers, after the debacle with April. He had desperately hoped he could stay with Sam and Dean, but he understood why Dean had cast him out – it was, after all, safer that way while Sam recovered.

The other two problems were guilt and hormones. Guilt was, honestly, the largest of the two. He was constantly on the run – he understood that now. He could never stay in one place for long. If there were angel-related deaths nearby, he had already overstayed his welcome. He put others around him in danger, even untraceable as he now was thanks to his new tattoo. What he had done was incomprehensible, and he was absolutely desperate for some way to make things better, _any _possible way to redeem himself.

The other problem was hormones. He had never truly understood the male sex drive, but he was beginning to understand why humans committed so much sin. 

Having sex with April had been a mistake. It had been an enjoyable and educational mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. Dean and Sam had seemed impressed, so that was something. Still, he had ended up dead because of it, which he was pretty sure wasn’t supposed to happen after coitus.

The real reason he was beginning to think that sex with April had been a mistake, however, was because it seemed to have awakened something inside of him that left him constantly wanting. This constant need had been bad enough before April – he had gotten used to the need to pleasure himself daily, but at least he hadn’t known what he was missing. It was only after April, however, that he began to wonder what sex would be like with the person he was truly in love with – Ember.

It had been bad enough when he was an angel, and her half-demon powers attracted him. Now, being around her felt like a sweet kind of torture. She had been kind enough to let him into her house – to let him eat her food, sleep on her couch, and keep her company. He was never able to do much for her other than clean her house, help her kids with homework, and cook; he never felt like he did enough. Still, she always seemed happy to see him.

He wished he could spend all of his time at Ember’s, but he dare not. He knew he was being tracked, and he couldn’t afford to put Ember and her children in danger. Therefore, he kept his visits to once or twice each week. They were the highlight of his life.

***Castiel POV***

August 3

“You do realize this game is very crass, don’t you?” asked Castiel for the third time that night.

“Duh,” said Krissy. “That’s what makes it so much _fun_.”

Ember rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you guys talked me into playing _Cards Against Humanity_ with an _angel,_ for Christ’s sake,” she said, her head in her hands.

“I’m not an angel,” Castiel responded. “I’m human now.”

“Exactly,” said Aidan. “And, as a human, it is our duty to introduce you to _Cards Against Humanity_. Besides, Cas. You’re _winning_. Josie, it’s your turn to choose.”

“Fine,” said Josephine. She picked up a black card. “What never fails to liven up the party?”

“An ex-angel who keeps asking what all of these cards mean,” joked Krissy, giving Castiel a big grin. 

“I’m not sure whether to be insulted or not,” Castiel said honestly.

“Don’t be,” Ember said. “We’re having a great time. This is literally the most fun game of _Cards Against_ I’ve _ever_ played.”

“What is ‘pixelated bukkake’?” asked Castiel, and the entire group, including him, burst out laughing.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“I hope I didn’t embarrass myself in the game earlier today,” Castiel told Ember late that night. They were watching Doctor Who_,_ and it was a commercial break.

Ember laughed. Castiel liked the sound of her laugh. “You did,” she said, “But it was in a good way. Here, it’s back on.”

Castiel supposed that would have to be good enough; he had made her happy, and that was something. He watched the show intently, but he found that he didn’t understand it. “I don’t understand this show’s concept of Heaven,” he told Ember during the next commercial break. “Why is Heaven full of skeletons in tanks of water?”

“It’s not _actually_ Heaven,” Ember told him. “The Doctor’s enemy, the Master, has figured out how to use advanced technology from their home planet to intercept the souls when people die and put them into Cybermen so that she can take over the world.”

Castiel thought about this. “It’s all very complicated,” he said.

Ember was staring at the screen intently, even though the episode was over. It was obvious she was still thinking about something.

“Castiel, where do angels go when they die?”

Castiel stopped to think about it. “I’ve been told we – I mean, they – go to the empty.”

Ember frowned, staring curiously at Castiel. “What’s that?”

“I’m not sure,” he said honestly.

“And… what about you?” asked Ember, looking at him and scooting closer as if to search for something in his eyes. “You’re human… but do you have a soul?”

“I… don’t know that either,” he said. He thought back to his time in the homeless shelters and on the run, and what he had learned so far about his human self. “But… I have no temptation toward wrong-doing, like other humans do when they don’t have a soul. I’ve been angry, but I have no urge to kill humans. I’ve been upset, and guilty, and remorseful, and I feel it deeply.” He continued to think about it. “Perhaps I do have a soul, or… perhaps I simply have lived too long as an angel for it to matter.”

Ember seemed to consider this. Finally she said, “If you _do _have a soul, then that means when you die, you’ll go to Heaven, right?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Each soul has its own Heaven, right?” she asked. “Dean told me that.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Castiel said. Then he asked, “What would yours look like?”, because he simply wanted to know.

She thought a moment. “Spending time with my mother,” she answered honestly. “Before I knew about demons, and before I had powers. Before I was constantly scared.”

Castiel was shocked at her answer, and the flippancy with which she said it. He wished that she never had to be scared again. For a second, he wished that Sam had gone through with the trials and locked the demons into Hell forever. As he was about to say something to this effect (though perhaps not about Sam), Ember asked, “What would yours look like?”

Castiel had spent a lot of time in the eternal Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who had drowned in a bathtub in 1953. It had been peaceful there, with flowers, and a sprawling landscape. He was about to explain this to Ember, but then he had another thought.

“Here, I think,” he answered honestly. “Here, with you.”

“Really?” She asked. “Why am I so special?”

“You are very special,” Castiel said, thinking fast. “You accept me, even after everything I’ve done. And… and you’re funny. And your children are truly delightful. You are all models of the human species.”

Ember began to laugh, and she reached across the sofa to hug him. They gave each other quick hugs when they said good-bye, Castiel reflected later, but this was only the second time she had given him a long hug like this one. Once again, he inhaled the scent of oranges and felt his body begin to respond to her closeness. This time, however, he did not let go, but simply moved slightly backward, making sure to cover the evidence of his arousal. Finally, when she moved to let go, he did as well, feeling suddenly cold at the loss of her body.

“Castiel, seriously, you _really _need to stay for longer,” she said. “You always know how to make me smile.”

***Castiel POV***

August 11, Morning

Castiel loved the taste of eggs and bacon. He had made a spread for the rest of the family on Saturday morning. He would never admit to Ember that he had continued to search out opportunities to learn how to cook, simply to impress her and the kids. Cooking seemed to be the most useful thing to do in Ember’s new home, because it was the only chore that she point-blank refused to learn, and so he had approached the task with gusto.

He thought he had done a fairly good job, too. He was the first one to awaken, and the thought of the look on Ember’s face when she saw the spread brought a smile to his face. It felt like his first smile this week.

Castiel’s head turned sharply when he heard whispering. Suddenly Josephine emerged from the living room, clearing her throat as she entered. “Excuse me, Mr. Castiel,” she said, approaching him formally. Then she saw the food. “Wow, did you make these?”

“Yes,” he said, “It’s the least I could do. Eat up!”

“Thanks!” she said, seeming to forget what she had been about to ask. She grabbed a plate and a lavish amount of eggs, and sat down across from him at the table. Aidan also emerged from the living room, and at the sight of him, Josephine seemed to remember what she had been about to ask. “Oh! Right!” She was much less formal now, as though the eggs had been some sort of icebreaker. “We wanted to know if you could practice fighting us.”

“What?” said Castiel, surprised.

“Last time you were here, you said you’d practice fighting with us someday if it was okay with Ember,” Aidan spoke up. “We have all the foam weapons we use with her in the basement. You know, for practice?”

Castiel was caught off guard. “Ember - what would she say?” He hoped this was the correct answer.

“She practice fights with us sometimes, so that all of us can keep up our strength if someone tries to attack us,” Josephine filled in. “She said it was okay when Aidan asked her, but that we had to ask you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

When Ember had come down to breakfast around 10AM, she had been pleased with the spread. Her face had lit up, and she had given Castiel a huge smile and thanked him profusely. Then she had looked at his clothing, which was the same as what he had worn yesterday. “Cas, I’m taking you shopping today. You’ve been so kind to us lately, it’s the least I can do.”

When they had left at noon, Krissy had yet to come down to breakfast, and Josephine had had to leave for her job at McDonald’s, where she worked from 11 to 4. When Aidan had asked Ember, again, about Castiel practicing fighting with them, she had said that it was a great idea (if he would agree to it), and that they could do it after Josephine got off of work.

During the shopping trip, Ember regaled Castiel with what he had missed in the lives of the children since his last trip over a week ago. “Krissy’s math has been better since you helped her last week,” Ember said. “I checked her grades this morning, even though she doesn’t know I know how. She still doesn’t trust me. Victor did a number on them, though, so I can’t be surprised...” She sighed. “It’s the same old story. They’re always worried that I’m going to come home a vampire, or that I’m not _going _to come home…” She trailed off. “Of course, I’m not really sure how much of that is related to them being in foster care and the trauma they’ve been through, and how much of it is related to just hunting in general.”

“You’re a great mother,” Castiel said. “The situation you’ve been put in, with you being half-demon, and the choice you’ve made, to take care of other children who have been orphaned as a result of hunting, is admirable.” He had said it before, and it always made her smile.

Ember also told Castiel what to expect in regards to the children’s fighting styles as they picked out first a suitcase and then several new pairs of shirts and pants for Castiel. “Watch Aidan, he needs the most work, but don’t tell him that,” she said. “He never puts his feet right, and he makes these big sweeping strokes that don’t hit… Krissy is nearly always on target, though. And what Josie doesn’t have in agility and speed, she makes up for in accuracy. Once, Krissy and Josie together almost beat me, and I had to use my force powers to repel them. They want to see if they can beat you.”

Castiel couldn’t help remembering a sparring practice with Ember a very long time ago, when the group of them were working to take down Lucifer. He wondered if this would be like that.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Castiel learned quickly that this was _nothing_ like sparring with Ember. Victor had turned the basement of the large house into a matted sparring room, which was full of foam and other practice weapons. Ember and Castiel served as instructors, and Castiel was surprised at the ease with which he slipped into the role. “You’re leaving yourself too open,” he told Josephine slowly, watching her fight with Krissy. “You’re concentrating too much on accuracy and sacrificing quickness.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ember give him a smile and a quick nod.

Castiel knew, without asking, that Dean had been down here at one point, sparring with the children and instructing them as well. Krissy in particular had picked up a few moves that Castiel recognized as very Dean-like. 

The children were good fighters – better fighters than most hunters, to be honest, though no match for Ember or Castiel. As Ember had warned him, Krissy was lethal with a blade. In their first match, he went easy on her, and almost let her get the better of him. While they stopped for water, Castiel watched Ember dual-wielding a pair of foam knives against Aidan and Josephine. Ember’s hair was tied in its usual ponytail, and she wore lounge paints again with a black crop top and tennis shoes. She dodged Aidan’s blows easily as she discussed trigonometry homework with Josephine during their swordfight.

“Dean said he taught her to fight like that,” Krissy said, following Castiel’s eyes. “But I think she has completely her own style.”

Castiel agreed. “Her force powers play a role in her style,” he said. They had discussed it once, late one night, with Dean and Sam. “She picked up some moves from Dean, but her force powers help determine which moves are easiest to use and which ones are best left for practice sparring or playing around. That’s why she likes to dual-wield – so she can keep her force energy even on both sides.”

Krissy appeared to think on this for a second, then slowly raised her foam sword to his face, signaling that the water break was over.

They had been fighting for about half a minute when the teenager spoke up. “Castiel, how long are you staying this time?”

“Should you really talk until you’re confident you can fight in silence?” Castiel asked, forcing her slowly backward toward the wall.

“Ember encourages us to talk,” Krissy said. “Because our opponents will be taunting us.”

Suddenly, she grinned evilly, ducking under his arm in a quick move he didn’t anticipate. “Hey Cas, what are you doing tonight?” 

Castiel was suddenly on the offensive, but it only lasted a second before he had used his strength to force Krissy backward while parrying. “I’m not sure, why?”

“Just figured we might all want to get out of here,” she said, concentrating so hard that tiny lines appeared on her forehead. “You know, so you and Ember can have some time alone together.” And, once again, she ducked away from him.

Castiel froze at her words, only for a second, but then he felt the foam sword pushing comically into his chest.

Aidan noticed it first, and became so distracted that Ember was able to hold him easily at swordpoint, effectively ending the fight on the other side of the room. Ember turned around slowly and grinned when she saw Krissy and Castiel. “Finally got the better of you, did she?” she said proudly.

Castiel prayed that Krissy wouldn’t explain the full situation to Ember, and fortunately she didn’t seem inclined to elaborate on her win. He thought his face must be horribly red, however. Ember raised her eyebrows at Castiel, but that was the only sign she gave that she knew something must be amiss.

***Castiel POV***

August 11, Evening

Castiel methodically packed the shirts Ember had bought for him in the suitcase she’d provided. He knew that the few things he owned would leave the suitcase pathetically empty, but he admitted there was still something far more satisfying about seeing his belongings in a suitcase than in the plastic bag they had recently inhabited.

Once again, it was time to leave. He’d stayed two nights last time, which was already too long. This time, he felt he _had_ to stay only one night. He had gotten too close today, he thought. Surely she must know how he felt about her. He _had _to leave, for both of their sakes. He was embarrassed – what use had she, for an angel who was now mortal, and on the run? The rain was pounding right now, but he would leave when the storm passed. He _had_ to leave when the storm passed.

Suddenly, from the doorway, Castiel heard a voice say, “What are you doing, Cas?”

He froze. Even her voice made him ache, in a terrifyingly sweet way. “Packing,” he said carefully.

She was frowning, he could already tell. “I thought you weren’t gonna leave until tomorrow evening?” she asked. “I have the day off tomorrow except for one client…”

She had showered after their fighting practice, and was wearing baggy lounge pants and a tight tank top that left far too little to the imagination. Castiel swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away. Yes, this had been the problem. This had been why he was packing.

“Castiel, what’s wrong?” she asked. “You’ve been acting weird ever since the sword fight today.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and fire seemed to spread through his body at the point where she touched him. “Cas, what did Krissy say to you that has you so freaked out?”

Castiel looked at Ember, arrested. She was so close. She was _too _close. “How did you know that she-..”

“Who do you think taught her that trick?” she said, smiling. “What did she _say_, Castiel? Even if you don’t tell me, I’ll be able to get it out of her eventually.”

“She said-…” Castiel trailed off, then tried again, looking away. He was struggling for words. He did not want to tell her this, had never planned on telling her. Surely she must know, but to hear it confirmed was something different. Still, he supposed that he ought to tell her, rather than allowing her to hear it from Krissy. “The thing is, I have… I mean, I’ve developed… feelings.” When he finally looked back at her, he found that she had somehow moved imperceptibly so that she was right in front of him.

“What kind of feelings?” she asked, and there was something different in her eyes now, something that reminded him somehow of the look in Dean’s eyes just before he made a kill.

Castiel gulped again, and he could feel bits of his anatomy responding that definitely weren’t supposed to, but which seemed to respond to everything these days. “Uh… romantic… feelings,” he stuttered.

She studied him, her face unreadable.

“I thought… I thought since you weren’t an angel… I thought you didn’t feel that way anymore?” she asked.

“I don’t,” he said. “I mean… that part of it is gone. This is…” he gulped, looking away. “This is something different.”

To his utter surprise and amazement, she smiled. “That’s what I was waiting for,” she said softly. She was so close now that he could see the small bead of moisture on her lips, and smell her potent citrus smell. 

And then he realized what was going to happen, and his heart jumped to his throat. She was standing _so _close to him, and looking at him in a way that he’d never dared hope she would. He was powerless to stop himself from moving the last couple of inches toward her lips.

He had been kissed by April, and of course he had been kissed by Ember when he was being controlled by Naomi (a kiss which had haunted him for the next several weeks). He had never imagined, however, that a kiss could be quite like this. It was like soaring and falling at the same time. How long had he fancied Ember, really? How long had he imagined kissing her? Since he _met_ her?

His kiss with April had been exploratory, and April had been very pretty, but it had been nothing like kissing Ember. He felt her tongue push into his mouth, and he added his own tongue to the mix, his heart thudding frantically into his chest. Was this happening? After all of this time, was this really _happening?_

He felt Ember’s hand on his face, and bravely he slunk a hand on her back, pulling her just a little bit closer. He was desperate for more, but terrified to ruin what he already had.

“_Cas,”_ she said breathily, and something very animalistic stirred inside of him. Then she moved a final inch forward until they were touching, and she could feel how much he wanted her. He fought with his traitorous human body not to grind into her, but she took matters into her own hands and moved him back toward the bed. He had one hand on her back and one on her neck, and he didn’t want to let go with either hand long enough to fall backward onto the bed, so she moved with him.

She ground into him, and he moaned into her mouth. Were they really – were they _really_ going to do this? Apparently they were, because she was tugging at his shirt as if to remove it, which he allowed. “I’ve always wanted to see an angel naked,” she said, smirking at him in exactly the right way.

“I’m not an angel,” he pointed out.

“You’re still _my_ angel,” she said, not missing a beat. Ember took both of Castiel’s hands then and put them on her breasts, which Castiel took as his cue that this was allowed. He leaned up once more to kiss her, and very slowly began to peel off first her top shirt and then her undershirt. “You’re… you’re beautiful,” he said, and she kissed him, hard.

His hands skittered up her stomach and ended on her breasts, because he couldn’t _not_ touch them, and meanwhile her hands were on his chest as well. She smelled _amazing, _different from how he remembered when he was an angel, but somehow even better. And then her hands went lower, and lower, until-

“Ember,” Castiel said, breaking their kiss. “Are you sure?”

“Aren’t you?” she asked.

_Yes!_ But instead he kissed her again, until she broke their kiss to once more begin unzipping his pants. He reached for hers, meanwhile, and for a few seconds there was an awkward bit of undressing and finagling out of trousers. When both pairs of pants had been discarded on the floor, however, Ember and Castiel looked at each other, suddenly unsure. 

Castiel had been so busy looking into Ember’s eyes for clues – how was she feeling? Would she allow this to go on? – that he was completely surprised to feel her hands on him. He gave a loud moan, and she gave a salacious grin. Holding eye contact, she climbed slowly down him, and then disappeared from view. 

Suddenly he felt her mouth close around him, and it was unexpected, and different from anything he had ever felt before, and _wonderful_. Even with April he had never done this, and how had he never known how _amazing _this could be? But he wanted more, he wanted… “Let me see you,” he said gruffly.

Her mouth came off of him, and he felt suddenly cold at the loss, but she shifted back into view. She smiled at him shyly before once more closing her mouth around him. The sight of it almost tipped him over the edge, but by now he was able to recognize the warning signs. He scooted up and away from her, gently guiding her until she was lying back on the bed and he was bent over her. He had wanted this for _so long_, before he had even known it was what he wanted, and he’d be damned if it was over this quickly.

He trailed kisses down her stomach, and she moaned his name breathily. He wasn’t terribly experienced with this, but he had learned enough from watching Dean’s porn of the pizza man, and from April, and a few other things that he had seen and heard over the years. He knew where to touch her, and where to put his tongue. He moved around and listened to what made her gasp, and he was surprised when she came undone around him. She was beautiful, shaking, and he kissed her on the tops of her breasts as he watched her come down from her orgasm.

“That was… Cas, I… didn’t know you knew…”

He smiled, glowing with pride. “_Cas,” _she breathed. And then she was kissing him again, fiercely, and he didn’t know where he ended and she began, and he was helpless to stop it. She rolled them over, and he felt an unnatural sensation, and looked down in alarm. She had wrapped him in a condom. 

“Sorry,” she said shrugging. “Protection.”

_Protection!_ He understood, now, what Dean had been asking. But he had no time to think about that, because it meant – it meant she was going to -…

Ember was standing over him, the moonlight glowing off of her pale skin, and her face was searching for something – reassurance for him, or perhaps an answer? He gave a small nod, and very, very slowly, she slid onto him. It was exquisite, and Castiel fought with himself not to thrust. “_Ember,”_ he begged. Very, very slowly, she began to move up and down, and he reached up to touch her, like he’d seen in the movies.

Castiel knew it wouldn’t be long before this was over. He had wanted to draw it out longer, but he was powerless to stop it now (even with the condom), and it felt _so _good. And finally he could feel her walls clench around him, and she cried out. He followed her a second later, rasping her name as he came inside her.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Castiel was a human (a lousy human at that, he often thought) who was wanted by every angel in the world, and had been kicked out of the house by his best friends… but damned if he wasn’t grinning from ear to ear. He was happy just to watch her sleep, the sound of her deep breathing calming him.

Still, he had only another half hour or so until the first light, and he needed to leave. Slowly, he began to move away from her, quietly gathering his clothing from the floor. He smiled to himself as he saw, in the dim light from her night light, the various bits of his clothing flung haphazardly around the room, mixed with hers.

“Cas?” she said, and he froze, looking at her through the darkness.

“Cas, you’re not leaving?” she said, looking hurt.

“I…” He fought against the urge to stay another day, knowing he was already pushing his luck. “Ember, I shouldn’t have stayed even this long…”

Her face fell. “I don’t want you to be in danger,” he said desperately. “I don’t want…”

She nodded, though her face remained guarded. “I’ll get up with you. I’ll walk you out.”

Slowly, she shuffled out of bed and turned the light on, wincing at the bright light. When Castiel’s eyes got used to the light, he saw that she was wearing only her underwear from last night. The sight sent a jolt of arousal through him, which caught him off guard. How could he be feeling this _again_, after last night? Still, he had learned long ago that Ember made him feel things he might never fully understand. Unable to resist, he moved toward her and put his arms around her, kissing her shoulder and her neck.

She had been in the process of putting on her jeans, but turned around in surprise, and her mouth had curled up into a smile. “I thought…”

He looked at her questioningly. 

“Never mind,” she said.

“What?” he asked.

“I thought you wanted to leave.”

“No,” he said, surprised. He kissed her neck, careful to keep his erection away from her, because he didn’t have time to have intercourse again, as much as he would have liked to. “But I _have_ to.”

She hung her head. “I understand.” And she leaned up again, kissing him on his neck. Just as he felt he couldn’t resist her any longer, and went to pull her closer, she stepped away, not realizing what he had been about to do.

“Where does that leave us?” Ember asked.

Castiel was confused at the question. “What do you mean?” he said.

Ember thought for a minute. “O… kay. Um… do you want to sleep with other people?”

Castiel thought this was an odd question. He was pretty sure he had been fairly clear on that subject. Now that he thought about it, though, he had never actually _told_ her _anything_ on the subject. “No, why would I want to do that?” he asked. Then he had a thought. “Wait… do you want to sleep with other people?”

“No,” she said, and he felt an immense amount of relief.   
“Good,” he said.

“So where does that leave us?” she asked again. She had turned away from him and was picking up her clothes off the floor, as well as his.

Now he was really confused. “I… don’t understand the question?” he said honestly.

She smiled, facing him again as she handed him his clothes. “I was beginning to get the feeling you were lost,” she said honestly. “Cas, when two humans – I mean, when two people – have feelings for each other, and especially when they have sex, it’s customary to decide at some point whether or not they want to have casual sex, or be in a relationship, or-…”

“What’s ‘casual sex?’” asked Castiel, stopping halfway into a pantleg.

Ember turned toward him. “That’s when two people have sex sometimes just for the fun of it. But there’s no feelings behind it, and they can have sex with other people if they like.”

Castiel looked downward. “I don’t want that,” he said. He thought a second. He thought he knew what “in a relationship” meant, but perhaps he ought to be sure. “What does it mean to be in a relationship?”

Ember smiled. “It means basically what we’ve been doing over the past month or so,” Ember said. “You make each other happy and keep each other company sometimes, and try to do good stuff for the other person. And, you commit that you aren’t going to have sex with anyone else.”

“Okay,” Castiel said. “Can we be in a relationship, then?” He was finishing tying his shoes, because he really, _really _did need to leave soon.

This had apparently been the right thing to say, as her face split into a big smile. “I’d like that,” she said.

“Me too,” he said. She seemed to be waiting for something, so he went over to her and put his arms around her. He hoped that this was the right thing to do. He was pleasantly surprised when she put her arms around him as well, then moved toward him and kissed him, on the mouth this time.

Stars exploded behind his eyes once again, and it occurred to him that perhaps being “in a relationship” meant that he could kiss her whenever he wanted. That was certainly what it had meant with her and Dean. And there was something about the thought of Dean that bothered him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Just as he was about to move his hand downward, Ember let go of him, and he remembered with a start how much he very much_ did_ need to leave before it got light outside. He extricated himself from her, apologizing, as he had never before wanted to stay quite so much. A minute later, he was gone.

***Castiel POV***

August 17, Evening

Castiel had been worried that when he finally returned to see Ember again, something between them would have changed. He was excited to realize that he was allowed not only in her arms but in her bed again. It was the best two days of Castiel’s life. He had not known it was possible to have so much sex, to laugh so much, or to be so happy.

Halfway through the weekend, Sam called. Ember had a very short conversation with him, during which she shushed Castiel and explained that she “was spending the weekend alone… the kids are all at their friends’ houses, and I’m taking a night to myself.”

“You’re not telling Sam that we’re in a relationship?” Castiel asked, surprised and a little hurt.

Ember sighed. “No, not yet. The way our lives work, we’ll need to tell them eventually. It’s just… even if Sam doesn’t tell Dean, Ezekiel will.”

“So?” he had asked, confused. He pulled her close to him on the bed.

Ember sounded as though she were holding back an annoyed sigh, but was patient with his questions. “Okay, so say that in a year or so we broke up, and-…”

“Why would we break up?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ember said. “Say… say I didn’t make you happy anymore. Or… say you found another woman you wanted to have sex with. Or something like that.”

“That won’t happen,” he said.

“Thanks, Cas,” she said, clearly touched. Then she began to sound serious again. “Okay, just… say that it does. Like, with Dean, the first time, we broke up because he convinced you to remove my memories, which really weren’t his - or yours – to take away.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. Was she still mad at him about this? Hadn’t he been at fault in that instance?

“I don’t blame you for that,” Ember said, as if reading his mind. “I blame Dean. It was his dumb idea. You were just doing what _he_ thought was right. But it wasn’t right, because they’re my memories, and so they’re my right.”

Castiel supposed he could understand this. Just as he decided that, however, she moved on to something else. “Okay, so say we break up. And then say I start dating someone else. Would you be a little upset at that person?”

Castiel shook his head. He understood now, but she needn’t worry. “No, he said he was over you,” Castiel said. “He said it was over, and he was over you.”

“Yeah, he _has _to say that,” Ember said, “That’s what Dean says when he’s mad about something.”

Castiel shook his head. “But he even slept with someone else.”

A flash of hurt shone in Ember’s eyes, but she laughed. “Yeah,” she said, “Because that’s what Dean _does_ when he’s not in a relationship.”

“Well that’s… that’s just…” Castiel struggled for words. 

“That’s _Dean,” _said Ember.

“Are you… are you just sleeping with me to get over him?” he asked carefully.

Ember’s eyes flashed a warning, and she untangled herself from him, staring at him intensely. “_No_, Cas,” she said. “I haven’t slept with anybody since Dean. I slept with you because… because I have _feelings_ for you. That’s typically why people get into a relationship.”

“I’m sorry for asking,” Castiel said, holding out his arms.

Ember wriggled into them again, and Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s okay,” she said. “I know these things are new to you. You can read people pretty well, but you don’t always understand human customs. But… just because a relationship is over, doesn’t mean you suddenly stop having feelings for the person. Eventually you get over each other, but it’s not something you can just turn on and off, you know?”

Castiel wanted to ask if Ember still had feelings for Dean, but he didn’t want to make her angry again. He also had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“So… Dean still has… _feelings…_ for you?” Castiel asked carefully.

“Probably,” said Ember. “It was never going to work, though. We just need some time apart, and then we’ll be fine.”

But this changed things. Why had he not thought about this? He remembered the feeling that he had forgotten something important, something that had to do with Dean… Had Ember thought about this, when she was with him last night?

“But… Dean’s my friend,” Castiel said. He felt guilty again, but also indignant. Would he give up this thing he had with Ember for his old friend? He didn’t think so.

“Dean chucked you out,” Ember said, looking disgusted with her old boyfriend. “When you needed him most. To keep secret a decision he never should’ve made in the first place. We both know that bunker’s the safest place you could be right now.”

“Even aside from Ezekiel, I still wouldn’t want to put them in danger by staying-…”

“Bullshit,” Ember said. “Look, it doesn’t matter.”

“But… it doesn’t feel right not to tell him,” Castiel said. “I don’t like keeping secrets.”

Ember paused, looking frustrated. “Castiel, I agree. I want to shout about our relationship to the rooftops. But… you’re on the run right now, from just about everyone. And Dean is volatile at the best of times, and Sam’s got an angel inside him that seems to have a few new ideas about living on Earth than he did when you last saw him. Adding Dean’s anger about this new relationship that we have is just going to be too much for everyone, okay? And I’m not talking to Dean, and you’re not talking to either one of them. And traditionally, _you _need to be the one to tell Dean that we’re together anyway, if you really want to save the friendship.”

“Why?” Castiel asked.

“If you tell him, you can say, ‘I’m sorry, but she’s beautiful and I couldn’t resist her, please still be my friend,’ Ember said, smiling up at him and kissing him on the cheek. “But if I tell him, it’ll just be his ex-girlfriend gloating about a new relationship with his best friend,” Ember explained. “And he’ll be even more mad at you, for not being the one to tell him.”

“I should tell him then,” Castiel said, confused.

“No,” Ember said, “Not yet. Give him some time to get past things. You know… let him sleep with a few more women. Whatever. Then, when Ezekiel has finished healing Sam, you should tell him. Right now, it’s just too complicated.”

Castiel couldn’t deny that he wasn’t looking forward to telling Dean about this new relationship, if Dean was going to be angry with him. “I suppose so,” he agreed reluctantly.

They grew quiet, and Castiel sighed. “Do you think… do you think it’ll be that easy? Do you think he’ll be okay with things if he has a few months to… sleep around?”

Ember sighed, turning around to face him. “No,” she said. “I think it’s going to suck. I think he’s going to be pretty mad. But… you also saved his ass about a million times. You saved _the world_, Castiel, more than once. If your friendship can survive you being _God_, and breaking Sam, it can survive this.”

Castiel felt the sharp stab of guilt again, but Ember added, “Besides… do you really want to give this up?”

Just the thought of giving up this small piece of happiness made Castiel want to cry. Crying was a new sensation that had only happened to him a couple of times, and he didn’t much fancy it. “No,” he admitted, kissing her again.

***Castiel POV***

Fall

Castiel had lived for thousands and thousands of years, but he couldn’t remember ever being this happy. 

Early September marked three months since April, the rogue reaper, had found him. In that time, he had not seen another angel, nor had the deaths of angels, or humans, continued to follow him. He wondered if perhaps they were no longer looking as hard. Perhaps they believed what he had told April before she had killed him, about not knowing what Metatron had intended. He was sure that they wouldn’t hesitate to torture or capture him if they found him, but he supposed they had at least “called off their most vicious attack dogs,” as Ember said one evening.

To test this theory, Castiel began to stay in one place for longer, and didn’t move around as much. He favored a soup kitchen in Rexburg, ID, and he spent most of his time away from Ember there. After another month with no incidents, he surprised Ember by getting a job in Rexburg at a local gas station. She surprised him by setting him up in an apartment there under a fake name. They took turns visiting each other almost every week, as well. Usually she took a plane while invisible, but his schedule also accommodated the ability for him to work double shifts for several days in a row, then hitchhike his way to and from Conway Springs, KS during a 5-day break.

Castiel loved everything about Ember. He loved the way her body moved during sex, and the way she laughed when she thought nobody was listening. He loved the way she steadfastly refused to cook, and the way she smiled when he cooked for her. He loved the children, too, who seemed to grow, both physically and emotionally, each time he saw them. 

All in all, Castiel was so happy that for several months at a time, he was able to forget – about Dean and Sam, about Ezekiel, about Metatron, and even about the other angels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking, "What mundane activities would Ember and Castiel and the family enjoy that would be funny? Hmmmm, Cards Against." I feel like I'm going to have to make a longer fic about that at some point, but for now it fit well here. Also this was one of my favorite chapters to write. This is giving me, finally, an opportunity to really dig into where I wanted to go with this story.


	34. Heaven Can't Wait

***Castiel POV***

November 4

THREE MONTHS LATER

It had been three months since the beginning of their relationship. Castiel had asked around, and done some studying online, but he wasn’t sure when was the right time to say “I love you.” He knew it wasn’t right to do it “too early,” but he was never sure how early was _too_ early, and how early was too late. He wished he could ask Dean, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Dean’s advice, even if Dean wasn’t furious with him about the question.

For their three-month anniversary, Castiel decided that it was time. He had saved up enough money to buy Ember diamond earrings. They were tiny angel earrings. They had only one tiny diamond, but they held a field of protection as well, which would ward away demons when she was wearing them. 

“Cas!” Ember exclaimed when she saw them and learned what they did. “Cas, this is… this is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me!” And she leaned in to hug him.

“Ember… I love you,” he told her, steeling his nerves.

She froze. “Cas, you’re… you’re not supposed to say that yet,” she said. “It’s only been three months.”

He felt his face heat up. He should’ve waited.

“But… but I love you too, Cas,” she added, glancing downward.

“You… you do?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean… you’re perfect, you know? You know what I’ve been through, and how to protect yourself, and how to deal with my demon issues. And you’re kind, and you’re hard-working, and you bought this with _honest _money… it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“You’re everything I ever wanted too,” he said in wonder, holding her close. “And I didn’t even know it. For thousands of years, I had no idea…”

And he could forget his guilt for a little longer.

***Castiel POV***  
  


November 12

“Don’t do it on your own,” Ember said. “Please, Cas, I’m begging you.”

“Ember, you don’t even have to ask,” Castiel said. “I’m not an angel anymore. I’m not going to risk getting myself killed, not with everything I have to look forward to. You’re still coming tomorrow for your birthday, right?”

“I sure am,” she purred, and Castiel couldn’t help but grin on his end of the phone line.

“Look, just make the call to Dean, and tell him you’re busy, or… something,” Ember said, sounding business-like again. _Dean. Right._ Castiel had read the newspaper this morning, and recognized instantly a case for Dean and Sam: “Local man presumed dead. Fourth unexplained disappearance in weeks.”

“Just _don’t _tell Dean about us yet, okay?” Ember asked.

“I thought you said that the next time we talked, I _needed _to tell him we were in a relationship,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, but not when he’s going to be in your neighborhood,” Ember said. “Jesus, Cas, he might come over and shoot you!” Castiel was still trying to figure out if Ember was joking or not when she continued. “Look, just tell him you’re referring this case to him, but you’re busy. Okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

So, Castiel called Dean. “I may have a case for you,” he explained. “Four missing in Rexford, Idaho. Presumed dead, but no bodies have been released to loved ones. And, there were reports of a strange substance at the scenes.”

“Oh, well, hello to you too, Cas,” Dean said. “How are you?”

_I’m dating Ember. Please don’t be angry with me. I love her._ “I… am busy.”

“Alright, so how do you want to do this? You want to meet up at the latest scene?You want me to pick you up? What?”

“Um… I’ve got my hands full over here,” Castiel said. “I just thought you would want to know about the case.” And then he hung up.

***Castiel POV***

November 13

Castiel was completing his work at the gas station when he was absolutely shocked – and horrified – to see Dean Winchester standing in front of his cash register. “I’ll have some beef jerky and a pack of Menthols,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel said, alarmed.

“Gee, it’s nice to see you too, Cas,” said Dean.

“It’s ‘Steve’ now,” Castiel said, pointing at his name badge. “And… you surprised me.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual,” Dean said. “I mean, I knew you had to lay low from the angel threat, but wow! This is some cover!”

_I’m dating Ember._ “My grace is gone. What did you expect? Do you have any idea how hard it was when I fell to Earth? I didn’t just lose my powers. I-…” _Was shunned by all the other angels, and then got kicked out by my best friends. _“I had nothing. Now? I’m a sales associate.” _And I’m dating Ember._

“A sales associate?” Dean said in surprise.

“I’m responsible for inventory, sales, customer service. I keep this place clean and presentable. And when my manager’s busy, I even prepare the food.” Castiel was proud of his job. It was simple, and he was good at it. At least he was good at _something._

“Wow,” said Dean. “So you went from fighting _heavenly battles_… to nuking Taquitos?”

“Nachos too,” said Castiel.

“This is not you, man. You are above this, come on,” Dean said as Castiel took a box out of the back room.

“No, Dean, I’m not,” Castiel said. _Ember says it’s good work to start out and build a resume. Good _honest_ work. _“I failed at being an angel. Everything I ever attempted came out wrong. But here, at least I have a shot at getting things right. I guess you can’t see it, but there’s a real dignity in what I do. A human dignity.” 

Suddenly, the gas station phone rang. It was Ember, Castiel realized before he picked up the phone. “I just wanted to let you know, I’m getting on the plane,” she said. “You’ll still be there to pick me up?”

“Yes, I’ll be there when you get here,” he said, forgetting about Dean momentarily. “I can’t wait until you’re in my arms again.”

When he got off the phone, Dean was grinning. “That’s what this is about!” he exclaimed.

“What?” asked Castiel, still happy from the phone call.

“A _girl.”_

“No, Dean, it’s not,” said Castiel, which was halfway true. 

“Okay,” said Dean, looking skeptical. 

“Dean, there’s something you should know,” Castiel said, unable to wait any longer.

At that moment, however, Dean got a phone call about the case. “There was another kill over at the high school,” Dean told Castiel when he hung up. “You comin’?”

“I wouldn’t be much use,” Castiel said. “I don’t have my powers.”

“So? I’ve never had powers,” Dean answered.

“You’re a hunter,” Castiel said.

“And you’re a hunter in training, remember?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I remember,” Castiel said. “You said I sucked.”

“I didn’t say _that_,” Dean said. “I said that there was, uh, you know, _room for improvement. _Come on!_”_

Castiel was almost certain that he was going to regret this, but he missed Dean. “Alright, my shift’s over in five minutes, and my date’s not until later, so…”

“Attaboy,” Dean said. “I’ll go get the car.”

“Not just yet,” Castiel said. “I have to clean the bathroom.”

Twenty minutes later, Castiel walked up to a sight that made him forget all about Ember for the first time in weeks. A girl had been vaporized at the high school – exploded into tiny bits of pink. “I’ve seen this before,” Castiel said, near to tears. “In Heaven. Dean, this is bad,” he said. “This is very bad. On the battlefields of Heaven, there was a special class of angel, the Rit Zien. It’s Enochian for ‘Hands of Mercy.’ They functioned like medics. They tended to the wounded. They healed those that could be healed. But for the mortally wounded, those who were past saving, the Rit Zien’s job was to put them down.”

“But the granulated bodies?” asked Dean.

“This was their special ability,” said Castiel. “They had this way of smiting that was so quick and so total that it rendered death virtually painless.”

“Yeah, but these aren’t wounded angels that they’re vaporizing. They’re people,” Dean said.

“Right,” Castiel said. “I don’t know. The Rit Zien home in on pain, it’s like a beacon to them. So when this angel fell to Earth, he heard the victim’s cries, their anguish… same as he’d hear an angel’s in Heaven. He’s continuing his heavenly work down here, one suffering human at a time.”

“Yeah, but this victim was not suffering,” Dean said. “She was just a normal moody kid.”

“But he just got here,” said Castiel. “The ebb and flow of human emotion… Dean, I’ve been on Earth for a few years, and I’ve only begun to grasp it. Ember’s been-…” He stopped, and he and Dean both froze.

As if in slow motion, Dean turned toward Castiel, who was sitting in the passenger seat of the parked Impala. “You’ve talked to Ember?”

It was now or never. “Dean, look, I wanted to tell you, but…” Dean was looking anxious, but he was waiting on Castiel to continue. “After you told me not to come back, I started staying at her place from time to time, and… we sort of… started… dating.”

He waited for Dean to get angry, but instead Dean’s lip curled up into a laugh. “No,” he said, continuing to laugh. “No, you’re not. I mean, I know you, like, had a bit of a crush on her, because of the demon attraction thing…”

Now Castiel was irritated. “Dean, I’m not making a joke.”

Dean’s face went from mildly amused to angry to skeptical. Finally he said, “How do you know you’re dating?”

“We’ve agreed to only sleep with each other,” Castiel said.

Now Dean’s face had definitely moved toward angry. “Get the fuck out of my car,” Dean said.

“Dean, I wanted to tell you I’m sorry, I-…”

“Was that Ember on the phone earlier?” Dean asked accusatorily.

“Yes, she-…”

“Get the _fuck_ out of my _car_,” Dean said again.

So Castiel did.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“I don’t think he’s ever been that angry with me before,” Castiel said miserably to Ember half an hour later. “He kicked me out of the Impala.”

“He’ll get over it,” Ember said. “I mean, you would _think_ he would get over it. He got over it when you decided you were _God_.” She was stroking Castiel’s hair, holding his head in her lap. Both of them were laying on the full-size bed that was one of only two pieces of furniture in the sparse bedroom of his apartment. 

Castiel winced at the memory. Maybe Dean had moved on from what he had done back then, but _he_ hadn’t. “After everything Dean and I have been through together, even after Purgatory, I can’t stand the thought of failing him _yet again._”

Suddenly, Ember and Castiel heard a _thump_ at the door. Ember immediately went invisible, and both of them ran into the front room of the apartment. Castiel attempted to throw himself in front of Ember, but realized that he couldn’t do so now that he could no longer see her when she was invisible. It was times like these – when others were in trouble – that he most missed being an angel.

Despite not being able to see the beings’ true form, he somehow knew that it was Ephraim, the Rit Zien.

“Hello, Castiel,” Ephraim said. “Ember.” He looked around. “This is quite a squallid little dump.”

“What do you want, Ephraim?” Castiel asked.

“You remember my name,” the angel commented. “I was just a nobody when we met. But you – you were a legend. You’ve been here before. This is my first time, and it’s… intense.”

“You know, there’s a lot you don’t understand about humanity at first,” Castiel said. Ember was staying silent, for which Castiel was grateful. If he could talk Ephraim down, maybe nobody else would have to die. “If you would just stop-…”

“Stop?” Ephraim asked. “I won’t stop until I wash the planet clean of all suffering.”

Ember threw a gust of force powers toward Ephraim, but they didn’t seem to have any effect. Ember made toward Ephraim, but Castiel stood in front of his girlfriend, or at least in front of where he thought she must be. “Don’t. Touch. Her,” he told Ephraim, his voice low and dangerous.

“You think I came for her?” the angel asked. “No, Castiel. I came for you.”

Castiel felt Ember shoot a gust of force power by him toward Ephraim again, but Ephraim easily held her back. Meanwhile, he continued his monologue. “So much pain, and despair. So many voices, begging out for relief.”

“How’d you find me?” Castiel asked.

“Because you’re warded?” asked the angel. “The same way I find all of my patients. I just followed the sound of your pain. You have no idea how loud it is. I could hear you for miles.” 

Castiel resented this, a bit. He was guilty, sure, and he had had an especially bad day today because of Dean, but he was also extremely happy these days with Ember. “Do you really think you’re doing Heaven’s work down here?” asked Castiel.

“I know I am,” Ephraim said.

“You’re wrong,” Castiel said. “Earth can be a hard place. Emotions are difficult, they don’t stay the same. These humans, they can get better. They’re just doing the best they can.” He was backing slowly toward the wall, where he and Ember had put up angel wardings behind picture frames.

“Is that what you think you’re doing, Castiel? The best you can? Well I’m sorry, but if this is the best that the famed Castiel can do, you’re a more urgent case than I thought.” He scoffed. “I used to admire you. You failed more often than you succeeded, but at least you played big.”

Just as Castiel had reached behind the painting, however, Ephraim grabbed his hand, yanking him easily away from the wall. “Now what are you doing?” he asked. “Burying your head in the sand. Right when your kind needs you the most! But don’t worry. It’ll be over soon. I’ll take the pain away.”

“I _want_ to _live_, “ Castiel said. Jesus, Ephraim was _crazy_.

“But as what, Castiel? As an angel? Or a man?”

And just when Ephraim’s hand had almost touched Castiel, he heard a crash. Dean had come running through the door, angel blade held high. Ephraim threw him aside, just as he had Ember. “You say you want to live, but you can’t see what I see. By choosing a human life, you’ve already given up. You chose… death.”

But just as Ephraim once again raised his hand, Dean slid his angel blade across the floor. Castiel caught it, stabbing the angel with all his might through the heart.

There was a flash of light, and then Ephraim was no more. 

Ember became visible as she fell forward, and the three of them stared at each other, frozen for a quick second. It was Castiel that spoke first.” “You saved us,” he said. “Dean, thank you.”

But Dean was looking at the two of them. They weren’t touching – Castiel had reached out for Ember’s hand, but she had deftly maneuvered away from him out of respect for Dean. Still, Dean seemed disgusted, and he looked away from both of them. “Well, that’s the case solved, then. You guys can handle the rest. I’ve got to get back to Sam.”

“Dean!” they both called after him, but he strode to his Impala and did not look back.

***Sam POV***

November 18, Very early morning

(Five days later)

At 5:00 AM, Dean came charging into the bunker. When he saw Sam, he gave his brother a look that said quite plainly that he had very much hoped Sam would still be asleep when he got home.

“Five days,” Sam said to Dean accusatorily. “Would it have killed you to pick up the phone?”

“I was busy,” Dean said. “I found a couple of twins in Las Vegas that were surprisingly bendy.” He shot Sam a grin.

“For _five days_?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” Dean said, grinning again. “That was just yesterday morning. And the night before. Before that…” He shook his head again and shot Sam another grin. “Do you know how many Asians live in the San Francisco Bay area?”

Sam rolled his eyes. He sat up straighter and crossed his arms. “Dean. Do you want to talk about it?” Ember had called ahead – he knew what this was really about.

Dean seemed to understand his meaning, and his face turned cross. “Fuck off, Sam. I’m tired. I’m gonna hit the hay.” And Dean left the room.

Sam shook his head, and went back to his research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What would Dean do when he found out about Castiel and Ember? Probably this. I'm very proud of this chapter. Let me know if you think I got it right. Reviews are my lifeblood.


	35. Holy Terror

***Dean POV***

December 3, Daytime

The next time Dean saw Castiel and Ember, he and Sam were investigating what appeared to be a war between angels at a biker joint out west. When they had noticed that Castiel and Ember had shown up in their “FBI impersonation” clothes as well, Sam nudged Dean. “You’ve had sex with a porn star now, remember?” Sam whispered in his ear.

Dean didn’t need his brothers’ pity or his pep talk. “Fuck off,” he told him.

The four of them greeted each other stiffly. Castiel looked happy to see them – Ember looked shocked, then horrified, then simply annoyed. 

“Cas, what the hell are you doing?” asked Dean.

“Um, I still have that badge you gave me,” Castiel admitted.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Uh… what the hell are you doing?”

“The murders were all over the news,” Castiel said. “I thought I might be of help.” Dean noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a frown flash across Ember’s face. So, there was trouble in paradise, Dean thought. The frown was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Yeah, but Cas, you know this is an _angel_ situation, right?” asked Sam. “You left that night because angels were on your ass.”

This time Ember’s frown was far more pronounced, and she made no effort to hide it. “Yeah, and you were living the life, you know?” Dean asked, before Ember had a chance to speak again. “Early retirement, working your way up the Gas N’ Sip ladder?”

“If angels are slaughtering one another, I have to do what I can to help,” Castiel said. “This is a risk we should be willing to take, don’t you think?”

Ember was staring at Dean, as if daring him to contradict.

Castiel grinned when he received no answer. “Cas is back in town!” he said.

Dean caught Ember’s eye, but she looked away, frowning again. “Seriously, did you - Did he just say that?” he asked.

Castiel ignored them. “These angels, they were butchered,” he said, holding up the folder for the brothers to see. “Much more violence than was required.”

“Definitely took more than one or two killers to pull this off,” Sam commented, also looking at the pictures Castiel had provided.

“Hit squad? Bartholomew’s people?” asked Dean.

“Well, Bartholomew has a faction we know about, but this could be somebody else entirely,” Sam said. “We don’t know.”

“Well, whoever it is, we’ll find them,” said Castiel, flashing everyone grins.

Ember spoke, for the first time that day. “Please, Dean. We need your help.”

Dean stared at Castiel and Ember. _You’ve had sex with a porn star now, remember?_ Finally, he nodded once.

“_We’ll _find them,” he mocked to Sam in a low voice. “That’s just _great.”_

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“It is so good being together again,” Castiel said over beers half an hour later.

“It’s fuckin’ weird,” Dean admitted. “But I guess we’ve always made a good team.” Truthfully, Dean had come to the opinion over the past month that Ember and Castiel would not last. Castiel was too socially awkward to keep Ember’s attention for long – if he even lived past the next few days, that is. It was also a bit reassuring to see the glances Ember had shot in Castiel’s direction during their earlier discussion, as though she was not as enamored with him as she once was. Besides that, Sam had pointed out that Castiel had saved their lives more times than they could count. Then, of course, there was the fact that Dean could count on one hand the amount of people he would trust with his life. Castiel and Ember were two of these people, ex-girlfriends and shitty friends aside. When hunting a troop of homicidal angels, Dean couldn’t help but admit the tactical advantage that Castiel and Ember provided.

“We have to figure out who we’re up against, what do they want, and how do we stop them,” Sam was saying.

“Well, Bartholomew wants to reverse Metatron’s spell,” Castiel said. “Presumably to – to retake Heaven once his following is large enough. That’s according to April.”

Dean noticed Ember frown again when Castiel mentioned April. “The reaper you banged,” he clarified, just to be a dick.

“And you stabbed,” Castiel added.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “She was hot.”

“I thought so as well,” Castiel said. “Up to the point she started torturing me.” Ember rolled her eyes and shot Dean a dirty look.

“I’m gonna get us another round,” Sam commented.

“I’ll get it,” Castiel said. He took a drink from his beer again. “You know, I’ve never done this before.”

Dean sighed. “One beer and he’s hammered,” he said turning to Ember.

Suddenly, however, he saw the blue light flash in Sam’s eyes that meant Ezekiel had taken over. “Oh, boy,” he grumbled.

“Well?” Ezekiel asked, looking at Dean and Ember. “What are you going to do about this?”

“About Cas?” asked Dean.

“He is a beacon, Dean, pulling every angel for miles down on our heads.”

“He’s been living in the same place for months, and hasn’t been caught,” Ember said. She narrowed her eyes, staring at Ezekiel. “Should he be _moving soon?”_

“What is it that you’re so afraid of?” asked Dean. It annoyed him that he had finally come to some sort of temporary peace in his mind with having Ember and Castiel around, only for Ezekiel to command that they leave. He felt cheated, somehow, of his ability to prove that he was over his best friend being an asshole.

“I told you,” Ezekiel said. “When I chose to answer your prayers and heal Sam, I chose sides. That means I’m not in good standing with certain angels.”

“Okay, well, you know what? Cas isn’t in good standing with _any _angel, all right? But we need him, and he needs us.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ember smile.

Castiel returned at that moment. “Here we go. Three brewskies.”

“I’m going to get something out of the car,” Ezekiel said pissily.

As soon as he was gone, Castiel spoke up. “What’s Sam’s deal?”

“That was Ezekiel,” Ember groaned, rolling her eyes. “He wants you to leave.”

Castiel looked down at the table. “Perhaps I _should_ leave,” he said. 

Part of Dean hated seeing Castiel upset, but another, more hateful part of him was completely fine with it. And, of course, Ezekiel was healing his brother… “I’m really sorry, Cas,” he said. “But it might be best.”

Ember gave him a look that could burn through concrete, and locked her arms with Castiel. “Come on, Cas. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

***Ember POV***

December 3rd, Afternoon

“I can’t do it anymore, Ember,” Castiel said. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

Ember sighed. It had been like this for nearly a month, ever since the incident with Ephraim. Castiel was determined to help the angels, at whatever cost. Every day, he came up with a new scheme to help them, usually plans that would end up with him dead, or worse. Two days ago, he had wanted to kill himself to go to Heaven to see Metatron. Most days, he wanted to pray to the angels to see which of them would show up. Ember had almost been glad when Castiel had read about the angel slaughter in the paper yesterday, because it at least it gave him a plan of action that wouldn’t likely result in his immediate death. After Dean had sent him away, however, Ember knew he would be a wreck.

“Don’t listen to them, they’re assholes,” Ember said to him. “We’ll investigate ourselves.”

“We have _no leads,” _Castiel said. 

“Cas, I’ve told you a million times, it’s a suicide mission.” She was so tired. She _hated_ Dean.

Castiel spoke again, and it immediately struck Ember that his voice was lower and more serious even than their usual conversations about this. “Ember, you’ve told me that your relationship with Dean ended because he made horrible decisions without telling you, decisions that could jeopardize your future and the future of your children. So that’s why I’m telling you, Ember. I’m sorry, but this has gone on too long.”

Ember was startled by his words, and she felt as though something cold had suddenly gripped her heart. “Cas,” she choked out. “Cas, you can’t be serious. What you want to do is _suicide_.”

“Maybe not,” Castiel said. “They couldn’t all come at once. They’re in disarray. They don’t have anyone to listen to.”

“They have Bartholomew,” said Ember crossly. “And the other faction leaders, whoever they are. And _everyone_ is after _you.”_

“Ember, this is my _responsibility,”_ he said. “This is my _fault._ I can’t sit idly by and watch it happen, _not anymore.”_

He was more determined than usual. “Castiel, I understand how you feel, but you’re _not _an angel, you’re-…”

“Exactly!” he shouted, and Ember was startled now more than ever. Castiel had never raised his voice to her before. “I’m not an angel! I’m a damn human, and I feel helpless! I wanted _so badly_ for _this, _for _us_, to make me happy enough to keep living like this! And I love you, I love you_ so much!_ But I can’t anymore, Ember. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore, because I’ve done nothing, _nothing_ to help, even though I was the one that destroyed _everything!”_

Then, to Ember’s horror, Castiel collapsed on the bed, tears falling freely. She knew, as certainly as she had known that Dean would never be able to stop hunting, or that she was in love with Castiel – she knew that Castiel was right. He would never be happy unless he tried to help.

“I’m going with you,” she said.

His head snapped around then, and he stared at her, his eyes blown wide. “You can’t,” he said. “You have children who need you.”

“They need you too,” Ember said, though she knew he was right.

“Not the way they need you,” Castiel said. Ember could feel that she also had tears on her cheeks.

“Ember, if I survive this, I promise – I _promise _I’ll come home, and raise the kids with you, like we both want. But I _have_ to try. I have to try, and you have to let me, and not try to come with me.”

Ember held him close, because she knew he was right. She had seen how miserable he had been the last few months. He was right – this wasn’t depression, or even “normal human guilt.” He may not be an angel, but in his heart he had never stopped being one. “I love you, Castiel,” she whispered.

***Castiel POV***

December 4, Night

If it weren’t for Ember, Castiel would reflect later, he might have taken his punishment. He might have simply allowed himself to be killed by the henchman of the leader of the second faction, Malachi, the Anarchist.

But to tell the truth, he wanted to keep helping. He wanted to help other angels, like Muriel – Muriel, who had been refusing to pick sides in the war, and who Malachi had killed for it. And, he wanted to go back to Ember. He wanted to be someone Ember could be proud of.

So he told the lies he needed to tell to escape. “It’s true… Metatron and I do have a working relationship. You’re clever, Theo. We could use a skilled soldier like yourself.” And then, when he was free, he did something he had promised himself that he would never, ever do again – he killed them all.

Then he made a single phone call, before he headed back to Ember’s. He counted himself lucky when he heard Dean’s voice at the other end. “Dean, I don’t have a lot of time, so listen. The leader of the opposition is an angel named Malachi.”

“How do you know that?”

“He had me. I was tortured. But I got away.”

“How?”

Castiel paused. Guilt still pricked at him, even harsher than before. _“Just following your example, Castiel,” _Malachi had said. “_How many did you kill in Heaven? And in the Fall?... A host of angels died in the fall. Died doesn’t even begin to describe it. Wings shredded, unspeakable agony at your hands…”_

But now, with a grace, he could make things right again. Now he could finally be helpful. “I did what I had to. I became what they’ve become. A barbarian,” he said finally.

“Cas, what are you – where are you?” Castiel was glad to hear Dean’s concern, even after he had rebelled him the other day. 

“It’s better I don’t say over the phone,” Castiel replied. “They’re gonna want me even more now. But I’ll be alright, I… I got my grace back. Well… not mine, per se, but it’ll do.”

“Wait, you’re – you’re back?” Dean asked. “You got your mojo?”

“I’m not sure,” Castiel said honestly, “but I _am_ an angel.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Dean asked.

“If we’re going to war, I need to be ready,” Castiel said.

“Cas-…”

“Dean, there’s more,” Castiel said hurriedly. “Ezekiel… he died, in the fall. I just found out. Whatever angel is inside of Sam… it’s not him.”

Dean was silent on the other end. Then, finally, he said, “Thanks, Cas. I gotta go.”

“Good luck,” Castiel said. “I’ll come as soon as I can, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please,” Dean said.

***Ember POV***

December 5th, Night

It was still dark outside when Castiel finally arrived back at Ember’s house in Conway Springs, KS. He had called the previous evening from a payphone, but he had only said that he had “survived” and that he was “on his way”. He had also told her, “our friend is in trouble. I’ll pick you up, and then we must go there.” Ember had asked if he was sure he didn’t want to stay the night in Wyoming before heading to Kansas, but he had simply answered, “That won’t be necessary.” 

Ember understood the necessity for a coded message, however it didn’t make her worry less. She was overjoyed to learn that Castiel was still alive, but she felt that she had gotten out of the frying pan only to be thrown into the fire. She had gone to bed and gotten a few hours of sleep, but was up early – she had already been up for an hour when she heard a knock at the door.

Ember was immediately suspicious. Castiel never knocked – he just came right in, by now. She understood immediately, however, when she looked through the peep hole to the porch. She had never been able to fully see an angel’s true visage, though Castiel had described it in as much detail as he could. She could, however, see the white sheen that seemed to shine from angels, and she recognized it immediately. “Cas!” she screamed, running toward him. “You’re – how?”

But he didn’t register the words. His eyes widened, and his nostrils flared, and he swept her off her feet, kissing her hungrily. She responded in kind, wrapping her legs around him – he had come back alive, as an _angel!_ She realized he burned hotter than before, but tasted just as good. He was just about to take her inside when he suddenly froze and disentangled himself from her, cursing in Enochian. 

It took her a moment to work out what had happened – he hadn’t been able to pass through the warding.

“You’re an angel again,” she said wonderously. “How…”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” he said, attempting to collect himself. “Are you ready to head to the bunker? We can deal with the angel-proofing later.”

Ember nodded, still shocked. “I’m driving,” she said.

“Fine,” Castiel said. “Never did get the hang of it, anyway.”

Twenty minutes later, Castiel had explained everything to Ember about how he had stolen another angels’ grace. “I feel terrible,” he finished. “But I did what I had to do. I wanted to come back to you.”

Ember looked at him shrewdly for as long as she could before she had to look back at the road. “So… nothing between us has… changed?” she asked carefully. He was an angel now, again. Would that mean he wanted something different? Ember knew that angels occasionally had romantic relationships with humans, but Castiel had always kept his distance before until he was a human.

“Yes, much has changed,” Castiel said, and Ember tried to mask her shock and upset. “I will of course quit my job in Idaho, though perhaps I should keep my apartment for now. There is other work I can do, now, which will be more helpful. We will have to be even more discreet, of course. The angels are looking for me more now than ever.” 

_Oh._ Castiel continued listing off his plans of what he wanted to do to help the angels, but Ember wasn’t listening. “So… nothing has changed _between us?”_ she asked, accidentally cutting him off.

He seemed startled, and looked at her with alarm, his blue eyes shining into her brown ones. “I meant what I said, Ember. I love you. Maybe I will outlive you a long time, now – maybe not. But I would be honored to spend the life you have with you.”

Ember smiled at him and reached over to squeeze his hand. “I love you too, Cas. And I would like that.”


	36. Road Trip

***Dean POV***

December 6, Early Morning

Dean was desperate. Sam – or, he corrected himself, the angel _inside_ of Sam – had killed Kevin and left. It was a mark of how desperate he was that he called the last two people in the universe he really wanted to see. Truthfully, though, he cared much less now than he had 48 hours ago about things like ex-girlfriends and best friends who broke the “bro code.”

Castiel and Ember let themselves in. “Dean,” Castiel addressed him in his low voice, and Ember nodded. They were not touching or holding hands, and Dean wondered if there was trouble in paradise or if they had worked everything out. Something about their posture led him to suspect the later, however. He realized that they weren’t touching out of respect for the situation, not because they didn’t want to.

“We came as soon as we could,” Castiel said.

“Dean, what happened here?” Ember said, looking around the room.

“After you told me it wasn’t Ezekiel, I did a spell,” Dean said. “But it didn’t work. Whatever angel was inside Sam…” He stopped talking, then collected himself again. “He heard me planning the spell. He killed Kevin, and then he disappeared.”

Ember let out a gasp. “Dean,” she said, sympathetically. “I’m sorry.”

It was too much, somehow. He hated her. He hated the both of them. He loved her. And he missed Sam. She had predicted this, all along! And yet she still sat across the table, helping him find his way out of another horrible decision – along with her boyfriend, his best friend.

“Sorry doesn’t pay the bills, does it?” Dean said angrily. “It sure as hell ain’t gonna bring Kevin back. I’ve lost everything! Sam’s gone, Kevin’s dead…” He looked at Ember, helplessly, and he knew she understood the words he refused to say: _And I lost you._ “We gotta find that son of a bitch,” he finished.

“Dean, if the angel possessing Sam isn’t Ezekiel, then who is it?” Castiel asked.

“A dead man walking,” Dean said viciously.

“Sounds good to me,” Ember said.

“You’re gonna destroy him?” asked Castiel.

“Damn right,” said Dean.

“But Dean,” Castiel said. “If you kill an angel, its vessel dies, too.”

“You think I don't know that? If I don't end Sam and that halo burns him out and I... God, I was so damn stupid.”

“Do you remember Alfie?” Castiel asked, changing the subject, and clearly choosing not to agree with Dean.

“The kid angel? Yeah. Why?”

“Before he died, he told me the demons were able to dig into his mind, access his coding. We might be able to do that here. We might be able to bypass the angel and talk directly to Sam.”

“And you think that would work?” asked Dean.

“I don't know, but I think we should try,” Castiel said.

***Dean POV***

December 6, Dusk

Two hours later, Dean, Ember, and Castiel climbed in Ember’s Cruze with none other than Crowley, whom Dean had kept imprisoned in the bunker’s dungeon since the trials. They needed Crowley’s help to dig into Sam’s mind, and the price for his help was “a field trip. Dying for some fresh air. Chains on, naturally.” One of Crowley’s contacts had managed to track the Impala, which Sam’s angel had stolen, ultimately leading them to Somerset.

The motley crew drove for 18 hours, straight through, until finally they were able to catch up to and capture Sam. Whoever the angel was, Dean thought, he didn’t have a lot of experience in fighting. As it turned out, what he did have a lot of experience in was being tortured. Dean was able to recognize when someone had known torture before, and this angel had. It had been hours, but nothing Crowley was doing appeared to be affecting the angel, aside from making him scream in pain. He continued to refuse to leave Sam’s body.

Ember had left early that morning and had not returned. “I miss Sam, and I’d do just about anything for him, you know that,” she had said. “But I didn’t sign up for this. Call me when it’s over.” And she had gone to sit outside in the car.

Dean didn’t blame her. After hours of watching the torture, he could bear it no more. “I can’t watch that anymore,” he told Castiel. They had gone further into the bowels of the abandoned building where they had chained up Sam. They could still hear the screaming, and even see Crowley, but it was not quite as graphic from here.

“I understand,” Castiel said. “It’s not Sam, but… It's still Sam.”

“Pretty much, yeah. How are you doing?”

Castiel looked surprised. “You want to talk about me now?”

Dean was beyond caring. “I want to talk about anything that's not a demon sticking needles into my brother's brain.” He looked out of a window, and he could feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Yeah, humor me, man. How you doing?”

“Uh... I'm okay,” Castiel said. He paused. Finally, he added, “I miss your friendship.” He paused again, before adding, “I’m sorry. About Ember, I mean.”

“Not sorry enough to let her alone, I suppose,” Dean said.

“No,” Castiel said slowly. “Not… not that sorry.” He paused, then added, “You told me you were over her.”

“I _-...” _Dean cut himself off. He had been about to say, “I _am,” _but he supposed that was both more confusing and completely untrue. “Dude, you really don’t get humans,” he said finally.

“I think I’m starting to,” Castiel said after a pause.

Both men were quiet for a minute. Then Dean said, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

“I understand,” Castiel said.

Silence, again. Then Dean said, “It never would’ve happened if I hadn’t kicked you out of the bunker.”

Castiel nodded. “You thought Sam’s life was at stake.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, “I got played.”

Castiel sighed, looking at Dean. “I thought I was saving Heaven. I got played, too.”

“Maybe we’re both a couple of dumbasses,” Dean said, smiling at his friend weakly.

Castiel smiled back, his smile a bit more wide than Dean’s. “I prefer the word ‘trusting.’ Less dumb. Less ass.”

Suddenly, they heard Crowley yell, “Laverne! Shirley! Get in here!” They rushed into the other room, only to find Sam unconscious.

“Pinhead's out cold, but watch this,” said Crowley. He moved two of the needles stuck in Sam’s left temple. 

The angel sucked in a breath and began to speak in Enochian. “Zir noco iad Gadreel. Zir noco iad Gadreel.”

“What's he saying?” asked Dean.

“His name. Gadreel,” Castiel answered.

“Does that mean something to you?” asked Dean.

“Well, it's why I've never seen him,” Answered Castiel. “He's been imprisoned since the dawn of time. Gadreel was the sentry who allowed Lucifer into the garden.” Dean could tell Castiel was very angry.

“My, my. A celebrity,” said Crowley.

“Wait, _the_ garden? Like, Eden? Adam and Eve? Fig-leaves garden?”

“It's his fault – all of it!” Castiel exclaimed, letting his anger get the better of him. “The corruption of man, demons, hell. God left because of him. The archangels – the Apocalypse. If he hadn't been so weak, none of it would have happened. Castiel had grabbed Gadreel by the jacket and begun to shake him. “You ruined the universe, you damn son of a bitch!”

Dean grabbed Castiel quickly. “Cas! Cas! Hey!”

“Dean, he-…”

“I get it,” Dean said, worried for his friend. “But you’ve got to chill. Go find Ember, and bring her back here.”

For the next half hour, Crowley continued to probe needles into Gadreel’s head. Ember had returned, but looked as though she might leave again at any moment. She and Castiel were holding hands, now, and Dean found that he barely even care.

“What's taking so long?” Dean snapped finally.

“Other than the fact that I'm trying to unravel a living, multidimensional knot of pure energy, not much,” Crowley said sarcastically.

Finally, Gadreel gasped in a breath and opened his eyes. “It won't work. You will never find your brother. Go ahead. Poke and prod. I can sit in this chair for years and watch you fail over and over again. I've endured much worse than this, Dean. So...much...worse. And I have all the time in the world.”

“Shut up!” Dean cried, reaching his limit. “All right. Plan "B." Cas, you’ve got to possess him.”

“What?” said Ember and Castiel at the same time.

“Do it now! Get in there, tell Sam what's going on, and help him kick that lying son of a bitch out!”

“Uh, Dean…” said Ember slowly.

“I can’t possess a vessel without permission,” Castiel finished for her.

Suddenly Crowley cleared his throat.

“No. Not happening,” said Dean.

“Don't be daft. Demons can take what they want. I can burrow into that rat's nest of a head. I can wake Sam up. Just call me plan "C.”

“You can't –…” protested Castiel.

“Have either of you got a better idea?” he asked, but both Castiel and Ember stayed silent.

Finally, Ember said, “I suppose it can’t get much _worse_. Sam’s in chains. If nothing else, one of them will kill the other off, Gadreel or Crowley.”

“What about the angel?” Dean asked.

“I'll work fast,” Crowley said.

“And if he finds you?”

“I'll run. I'm not dying for you lot. Of course, if I do this, you're gonna have to...”

“Take off the leash. Yeah, I know.”

“And it stays off. I save Sam, I leave here a free man. Do we have a deal?”

Dean didn’t like the idea, but he knew Crowley always held up his end of deals. He looked at Ember for advice, or possibly for comfort. 

“If you don’t keep our deal, your reputation will be toast, you know,” Ember commented. “You can’t kill all of us.”

“I’m aware of the risks, half-demon,” snapped Crowley. “I see this as a win-win situation. Everybody leaves happy.” Ember sighed, and nodded imperceptibly to Dean.

“Cas, burn off Sam's tattoo,” Dean commanded.

“Dean,” the angel protested.

“Do it. Do it,” Dean said again.

Castiel did.

“If you mess with Sam, if you try anything –…”

“I keep my bargains,” said the demon. “Besides, I don't want to be inside your brother any longer than I have to. I'm not one for sloppy seconds.”

“When you find him, say "Poughkeepsie." It's our go word. It means "drop everything and run,” Dean said.

“Fine,” answered Crowley. “While I'm gone, hands off the suit.”

Gadreel glared at Crowley. “I will destroy you.”

“Eat me,” Crowley snapped. And with that, a cloud of red smoke shot out of Crowley and into Sam’s mouth.

***Sam POV***

December 7, Late Night

Sam felt horrible. There wasn’t a joint or a bone in his body that didn’t absolutely ache. He wasn’t sure if this feeling was left over from the trials or the torture that his body had endured at the hands of Crowley over the last several hours. 

Sam had gathered, even through the pain, that Crowley had stayed behind at the abandoned warehouse to deal with Abaddon, who was baring down upon the warehouse with at least two of her cronies. It was nearly two hours, therefore, before Ember and Dean both felt safe enough to stop their respective cars and gather to discuss what had happened.

Castiel healed Sam, and he felt better afterward. His head felt clearer than it had in months, he realized with a start.

“You feel better?” Castiel asked.

“A little, yeah,” Sam answered.

“That angel was in you for a very long time,” Ember said, looking at him closely. 

“It’ll take time to fully heal you,” Castiel said. “We’ll have to do it in stages.”

Castiel and Ember grasped hands then, and walked away to a respectful distance. Sam understood – they were watching his confrontation with Dean. If the brothers decided to go separate ways, neither brother would be stranded.

“All right, let me hear it,” said Dean.

Sam was angry. It occurred to him that this must have been how Dean had felt when he had opened the door for Lucifer – completely and utterly betrayed. It occurred to Sam that for the past few months, he had wondered why Ember had broken up with Dean, but this was clearly the answer. “What do you want me to say – that I’m pissed?” he asked. No words could describe it. “Okay. I am. I’m pissed. You lied to me. _Again._”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Dean said.

“I was ready to die, Dean!” Sam exclaimed, trying to calm himself but not having any luck. 

“I know. But I wouldn’t let you, because that’s not in me,” Dean responded.

“So what?” Sam asked. “You decide to trick me into being possessed by some… _psycho angel?”_

“He saved your life.”

“So what?” Sam asked. “I was willing to die. Do you not understand that? And now… Kevin…” His eyes began to fill with tears, despite his best efforts.

“No,” Dean said fiercely, “That is not on you. Kevin’s blood is on my hands, and that ain’t ever getting clean. I’ll burn for that. I will. But I’ll find Gadreel. And I will end that son of a bitch. But I’ll do it alone.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Sam. What he felt, however, was hopeful. He realized, suddenly, that he wanted nothing more to be away from Dean in this moment.

“Come on, man. Can't you see? I'm... I'm poison, Sam. People get close to me, they get killed...or worse. You know, I tell myself that I-I – I help more people than I hurt. And I tell myself that I'm – I'm doing it all for the right reasons, and I – I believe that. But I can't – I won't... Drag anybody through the muck with me. Not anymore.” Dean looked pleadingly at his brother.

“Go. I'm not gonna stop you,” said Sam numbly.

Dean’s face fell, but he did not protest. “But don't go thinking that's the problem, 'cause it's not!” Sam yelled. More than anything, he realized, he was sick of Dean’s constant need to protect him – this need which had gotten Dean sent to Hell, and started the apocalypse, and sent him to the cage, and caused Castiel’s need to take over Heaven, and released the leviathans, and sent Dean to Purgatory.” _Taking decisions into his own hands and then making shitty ones,_ he thought to himself, remembering one of his discussions with Ember after their break-up.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Dean asked.

If Dean couldn’t figure it out, it wasn’t worth Sam’s time. “Just go,” he said.

And so Dean slowly walked to the Impala, leaving Sam to stand in the rain with the couple that should never have happened.


	37. The Purge of Captives

***Ember POV***

Winter

Sam didn’t see Dean for nearly two months after the incident with Gadreel. He spent much of his time at the bunker, but he also spent quite a bit of time either on the road or at Ember’s house, which was about 3 and a half hours away. 

Overall, Sam was at Ember’s house at least once a week, and she brought the kids to the bunker at least twice a month, now that Dean was no longer in the picture. Sam made excuses for how often he was coming around – to help with a new kind of angel proofing, for example, or to help teach the kids to fight. Still, Ember suspected that he missed Dean more than he was willing to admit.

Truthfully, his presence and his help were more than welcome, regardless of the reasons. Castiel’s angel powers presented a problem for security for the children – while before, they had simply warded the home against angels, it was no longer that simple. Instead, the children’s rooms were warded, and the house was covered in cleverly disguised banishing symbols in case of emergency. Castiel, Sam, and Ember worked their schedules so that one of the three of them was always home in case angels came looking for Castiel, and the angel did his best to make sure that he came and went unseen.

The small family spent a memorable Christmas at the bunker. Sam seemed somewhat sad and withdrawn, and Ember commented to Castiel that she was beginning to get used to one Winchester or the other being absent from her life for long periods of time. First it was Sam in the cage, then Sam with no soul, then her break-up with Dean, then Dean in Purgatory, then Sam possessed by an angel so she couldn’t be completely open with him, and now Dean attempting to escape his life.

Aside from angel security issues and Winchester drama, however, Ember found that her life couldn’t have been better. There was something special about dating an angel that Ember took pride in. Not only was he equal to Dean in looks, but he was incredibly strong physically. It also turned out that Castiel was better in bed as an angel, even, than he had been as a human. Angels, as it turned out, have the ability to coax out or draw out an orgasm, which Ember found to be one of the best things she had ever experienced. It more than made up for the fact that Castiel would never again sleep with her, as Castiel no longer slept at all. Occasionally, he did lie down with her until she fell asleep.

“Is it different now, than it used to be?” she asked him.

“Very much so,” he answered. “Food does not taste like it used to. I can taste all of the molecules now, instead of tasting the food as a whole. It’s disgusting. I miss the taste of food.” He looked at her reflectively. “I don’t miss requiring it constantly, though.”

Ember looked at him with surprise. “Yeah? What else?” If food was so different, perhaps sex, and love, would be different too.

“I no longer have to do mundane human things,” Castiel said. “Like sleep, and urinate.” He pulled her toward him, sprawling out farther on her bed as he did so.

“What about sex?” she asked with trepidation.

He grinned widely. “It’s much better,” he said. “Have you not noticed?”

“I wasn’t sure if… if it was good for you, though. Or if you were just doing it because you knew it was what I wanted…”

“I very much enjoy it,” he said, quirking a smile at her.

She smiled back at him, tracing a finger down his chest. “And your… your love for me?” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s just… I know angels don’t feel emotions the same way that humans do,” Ember said.

“I loved you when I was human,” he answered, nodding. “Now, your powers and your smell, your demon attraction, have added to this love and amplified it even more. My love for you and my desire to help the angels, and my resolve to rectify my failures, are the only emotions I have now that I am once again a celestial being. The everyday problems are no longer a concern, and it leaves more room for more important emotions.”

“Okay,” she said. “I just… I guess I was worried things have changed.”

“If you’d like, I can show you how I feel about you, now,” he said, his blue eyes dancing.

“What do you mean?” asked Ember.

Castiel held out two fingers, and gave Ember a look that was clearly a request for permission.

Ember nodded, and Castiel made contact. Suddenly, Ember felt a calmness she’d never experienced before, and with it a feeling of love that was so complete it almost made her want to cry.

“Cas,” she whispered. “This is – this is how you feel?”

“Always,” he told her, kissing her softly.

***Sam POV***

February 7, Night

Dean and Sam had begun hunting together again after they ran into each other on a case near the end of January… but this didn’t mean that Sam was no longer angry with him. As he had told Dean, “I can’t trust you – not the way I thought I could. Not the way I should be able to.” He’d had terms for hunting with Dean again: “If you want to work, let’s work. If you want to be brothers… those are my terms.” He could tell Dean was upset about his comment, but it was the best he could do right now. 

Sam could tell that his terms bothered Dean, however his brother (as usual) refused to admit that anything was wrong. It was a week later, after a case involving a Peruvian fat sucker, when Dean once again brought up the rift between the two of them. “About what you said the other day,” he said.

“I thought it didn’t bother you?” Sam said knowingly. 

Dean ignored him. “You know, Sam, I saved your hide back there. And I saved your hide at that church. And the hospital. I may not think things all the way through. Okay? But what I do, I do because it's the right thing. I'd do it again.”

Sam sighed. He had been waiting for this. “And that... is the problem. You think you're my savior, my brother, the hero. You swoop in, and even when you mess up, you think what you're doing is worth it because you've convinced yourself you're doing more good than bad... But you're not.”

Dean stared at him blankly. “I mean, Kevin's dead, Crowley's in the wind. We're no closer to beating this angel thing. You’ve lost Ember, now, _just _when you finally had her back, when you told me you’d do _anything_ to get her back. And to _Castiel?_” Dean reeled back as though he’d been slapped. “I mean, I couldn’t help but notice she would’ve been _really handy_ on a few of the cases we’ve had over the past few months. And of course, _Abbadon’s _loose, which is also our fault… Please tell me, what is the upside of me being alive?”

Dean’s face was working as he went through a range of emotions - angry, furious, guilty, stunned. “You kidding me? You and me -- fighting the good fight together,” he finally said, desperately.

Sam sighed in frustration, and almost left the room. Ultimately, however, he took a breath and sat down across the table from Dean. “Okay,” he said. “Just once, be honest with me. You didn’t save me for me. You did it for you.”

Dean looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I was ready to die,” Sam said. “I was ready. I should’ve died, but you… you didn’t want to be alone, and that’s what all this boils down to. You can’t stand the thought of being alone.”

Dean drew back and stood up. “All right,” he said, rolling his eyes and moving to stand.

“I’ll give you this much,” said Sam, unwilling for the conversation to be over. “You are certainly willing to do the sacrificing as long as you're not the one being hurt.”

“All right, you want to be honest?” Dean said. “If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing.”

“No, Dean, I wouldn’t,” Sam said softly.

Dean looked at him, obviously shocked. “Same circumstances… I wouldn’t. I’m gonna get to bed.” And he left Dean standing shocked in their kitchen.

***Ember POV***

February 26

Castiel was constantly busy searching for Metatron, with (so far) no luck. He had fortunately managed to sweep Ember away for a romantic getaway to Miami, but overall he was gone more than he was home. Regardless, he called Ember at exactly the same time every day to check in. Often he would text or call her multiple other times as well.

On February 25th, however, Castiel did not check in, and Ember knew he had been captured. She was sick with worry for two days. Sam and Dean were on a case in Wichita, however, so Ember was unable to seek out Castiel, as her duty was to her children. She wouldn’t have known where to start searching, anyway – Castiel never said where he was over the phone, in case something was intercepted.

Only a day later, however Castiel returned, with news: he had killed Bartholomew. Apparently Bartholomew had been killing other angels who were non-violent and refusing to take sides, calling themselves the Penitents. Castiel had refused to join Bartholomew in his killing, and was ultimately forced to kill Bartholomew in self-defense.

“You did the right thing, Cas,” she said. She had taken the day off to do some research online about his whereabouts, and he had returned during school hours. They had then had sex for two hours on the living room sofa, and her body was still thrumming from the orgasm. Now, he held her loosely, a blanket draped over both of them.

“I know,” he said. He was silent for a moment. Then he asked, “Will you go with me on Saturday? I would like to visit Rebecca’s grave. She was the leader of the Penitents. It isn’t far from here.”

“Of course, Cas,” Ember answered.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Two days later, Ember and Castiel were standing in front of Rebecca’s grave. The human vessel was called Darlene Foster, and her grave was beautiful, with a picture and some flowers nearby. 

“Sorry I created this chaos,” Castiel said. “Sorry I couldn’t do more to fix it.” Ember squeezed Castiel’s hand. “You may have lost the war, Rebecca, but you tried a new way. You have my respect for that.”

Suddenly Ember felt as though she was being watched, and whirled around. Castiel had whirled around, too, as a hand had been placed on his shoulder, and his arm was in front of Ember faster than she knew he could move. “I don’t want to fight,” he told the angel gruffly, “But if I have to, I will.”

“I didn’t come to fight,” the angel told Castiel. “Either of you,” he said, nodding at Ember. “When I fell, I thought I had no choice. But yesterday, you’ve showed me that there is a choice. And I choose you.”

Castiel looked at Ember, who said nothing. “I’m sorry,” Castiel said, shaking his head. “I’m no leader.”

“Yes, you are,” said the other angel. “If you’ll have me, Castiel, I will follow you. And I am not the only one.”

Castiel looked at Ember again, determination in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said again, “And I wish you the best. But I am no leader.”

***Ember POV***

March 25

Ember’s phone rang early on Friday afternoon.

“I’ve got bad news,” Castiel said.

Ember sighed. “You won’t be able to come home, like you thought?”

“Yes,” said Castiel, “But there’s more. I’ve just received word that one of Malachi’s people captured Hadraniel yesterday,” said Castiel. 

“Hadraniel?” Ember said. “Do you mean the angel that met us at Rebecca’s grave?”

“Exactly,” said Castiel. “I never should’ve taken you there. I -…”

“Don’t start, Cas,” Ember said, rolling her eyes, though she knew Castiel couldn’t see her. “Are you trying to tell me that we’ve been compromised?”

Castiel was silent for a second. “It’s probably nothing,” he said finally. “But he _is_ one of the few angels that has seen us together. I’m setting off to go look for him at once. We’ve got a pretty good idea of where he is – Malachi is getting sloppy.”

Ember sighed. “When will you be home?”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. “I know I haven’t been home in more than two weeks. When I do come home, I’ll stay longer, I promise. In the meantime though, just for tonight… do you think maybe you could take the kids to the bunker?

”Yeah, let me call Sam,” Ember said, letting out another sigh. She had really been hoping to have Castiel around for the weekend. “Do you think you’ll find him by tomorrow?”

“Almost certainly,” said Cas. “We’ve got a good lead from a reliable source.”

“I love you, Cas,” Ember said. “Be careful.”

“I love you too,” Castiel replied.

Two minutes later, Ember called Sam. “Aw, Ember, rough timing, I just left on a hunt. Dean’s there, though.”

“You guys aren’t hunting together? I thought you had… well, not made up exactly, but… you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, we have, but… actually, it might be good if you checked on him. I mean, you and Dean are on speaking terms again, right?”

“Yeah,” Ember said. This was true. Ever since the beginning of February, Ember and Dean had once again been on speaking terms. Dean had, ironically, been the one to open this door, with Sam’s help. It was, Ember had to admit, a big help overall. They had consulted with each other about cases, and Dean and Sam had even had the children over to the bunker one weekend a month for the past two months.

“Well, he’s become _obsessed, _with finding a way to kill Abaddon,” Sam admitted. “He could use a distraction. Maybe even some help with research.”

Ember paused. She _did_ want to make a trip to the bunker, but she didn’t want to intrude on the ever-fragile, ever-evolving relationship she had with Dean. “Do you think Dean will be okay with it?” Ember asked.

“Ember, Dean adores those kids, and he adores _you. _And if Castiel is desperate enough to send you to the bunker for the weekend, he probably has a good reason,” Sam said. “Anyway, someone needs to remind Dean to _eat_ once in awhile.”

“Wait, Dean’s forgetting to _eat?” _Ember asked. “Jesus, that _is_ bad.” She paused. “Okay, we’ll be on our way in 20.”

***Ember POV*** 

March 25, Late Night

It was just after midnight in the Men of Letters bunker. Josephine and Krissy were both staying at friends’ homes, so only Aidan had come to the bunker with Ember, and he headed to his room around 10. Ember and Dean had been drinking since then.

“Come on, drink with me,” Dean had begged.

“You don’t need any help drinking, Dean,” Ember had responded. 

“I don’t drink nearly as much now as I did before Purgatory,” he said.

“No,” Ember corrected. “We both know that’s not true. You held off on the Hunter’s Helper for awhile after Purgatory, but we both know you’re back at it again.”

Dean gave her a scowling look. “Sam ratted me out again, huh?”

“He didn’t have to,” Ember said, rolling her eyes.

“Humor me,” he begged. “Like we used to, during that year we settled down. Come on, how many years has it been since you lived somewhere where you felt safe enough to drink? Tomorrow’s Saturday, nobody’s going anywhere.”

Dean had a good point. Ember had a low tolerance for alcohol, and demons were always a threat, even now that Ember was so strong. She drank very rarely, because she didn’t want to be surprised while intoxicated. It had been the year after the apocalypse, when Sam was in Hell, that she had last been really, properly drunk. So, the drinking began.

Finally, at just after midnight, Dean slurred, “Mmmmm drunk.”

Ember laughed. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Added Absynthe.” Dean began to giggle.

“Dean!” Ember said, warningly. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Havvvveee trouble making the drunks anymore. Haddd to use harder stuff. Like Cas. In the world with the Lucifer-Sam.”

Ember wondered if Dean was simply saying names now. Perhaps she would ask him what he was talking about when he was sober again. Just as she began to try to figure out what to do, Dean asked, “Emmmber?”

“Yeah?” She had a feeling whatever Dean was about to ask, she didn’t want to hear it. He had a habit of only telling her his true feelings when he had a little bit of alcohol in him. It was why she hadn’t attempted to shut down his drinking entirely during their year away from hunting. Still, this was worse than it had ever been before. He was drunker than ever now, she could tell.

“D’ya think I wouldn’t let Ssssssammy die ‘cause I was being sssssselfish? Cuz I can’t stand to be alone?”

Ember was stunned. Had Sam told him that? Ember and Sam had talked about this being the reason,, but she hadn’t thought Sam would ever repeat this to Dean. 

“Dean, I…”

But her guilty expression showed on her face. “You do think that, don’t you?” Dean said, staring at her and looking crushed. “And it’s true, you know? It’s truuuuuuueee! I can’t imagine… life without him… and without you…” Dean shivered violently suddenly as though very dizzy, and he laid his head back on the chair he had been sitting in for the past few hours. 

“I ffffffucked up so bad, Ember,” Dean continued. “Your shmemories, and becoming a vammmmpire, and Gadreel…” Dean’s eyes began to close, and she could tell unconsciousness was not far off for him. She had always wondered how much he would actually have to drink to black out – apparently, now she knew.

“Dean-…” she started.

“Thinggssss change, you know?” Dean said, his eyes still closed. “You’re dating an _angel_ now. A half-demon and an angel? Sounds like a bad joke.”

Ember’s blood ran cold, and the few kind things she had been about to say to Dean flew out of her head as she turned to face him.

“It won’t last, you know. It can’t, now that he’s… angel…”

Finally, just as Ember opened her mouth to make a retort, Dean’s head hit the side of the couch, and he was out cold. Still boiling with anger, Ember shot a disgusted look at her old boyfriend before heading up the stairs herself. She shook her head at the shell of a man she used to date. She knew that tomorrow morning he wouldn’t remember anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's difficult to get to Dean's vulnerable side. And I'm not sure I wrote this right, but I needed this chapter; I needed to show Dean's regret, because it's important later, and I felt like the best way to do that was to get him stinking drunk. Let me know what you think... and whether Ember should end up with Cas or Dean.


	38. Metafiction

***Ember POV***

April 15, Late Night

Ember and Castiel were going strong, and Ember was happy. Castiel was gone quite a bit, of course, but Ember felt certain that there would be an end to it, at some point. She knew that Metatron was amassing an army to remake Heaven in his image, and that Castiel was doing whatever he could to find Metatron. Eventually, something had to give.

When Castiel was home, however, he was attentive, good with the children, and devoted to the family.

Until one day when, once again, Castiel didn’t call in as usual.

“I was just about to call you,” Dean said over the phone when Ember called him to see if he had heard from Castiel. “I was hoping he was with you.”

“No, he left out the day before yesterday. Last time I talked to him was this morning. He was following some sort of angel beacon that was calling out to him.”

“Last time we talked to him was last night, in Ogden, Utah,” Dean said. “The GPS on his phone says he’s still there. That’s where we are, now. We’ve tracked Gadreel there.”

“What?!” Ember said, beginning to panic.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got Gadreel,” Dean said. “But we don’t know how to crack him.”

“I’m not sure if Cas is the right person for that job, Dean,” Ember admitted, “But I’m pretty worried about him too. I’m headed for Utah right away.”

“Ember, I’m sure it’s nothing-…”

“Bullshit, Dean,” Ember said. “I’ll be on the road in five. Let me know if you find him.”

“Okay,” said Dean. “We’ll let you know.”

***Castiel POV***

April 15, Late Night

Castiel had a decent sense of irony. It did not escape his notice that he had spent weeks looking for Metatron, only to be captured by him and held prisoner. Metatron was what Dean would have called “crazy”. He had fashioned himself a hero and was attempting to rebuild Heaven in his image. “Every hero needs a good villian, Castiel,” he had told him. He wanted Castiel to lead a group of angels against him.

“Do you know why I didn't kill you after I stole your Grace? I like you. Truly. Among all God's little windup toys, you were the only one with any spunk. I left you human because I was hoping you would live happily ever after, but you screwed that up, too. I mean, you’ve got a great piece of ass like Ember at home, and you still go off to save the angels? How does that compute?”

“Watch your tone,” Castiel said, attempting to break out of his bonds, but it was no use. Metatron knew about Ember! It must be because of Gadreel…

“And now... you leave me no choice,” Metatron continued. I mean, if you want to get back on board, fine, but you're gonna have to follow my script.”

Castiel wasn’t entirely sure what this meant, but he was sure he didn’t like the sound of it. “Well, based on your assessment, that doesn't sound like me.”

“Lead the dumb, disenfranchised, rebellious angels against me, Castiel,” Metatron said. “They will follow you. And they'll all die, but I'm gonna save a nice, warm seat up top for you. You will be saved.”

No, Castiel definitely didn’t like the sound of that. “No,” he said firmly.

“Mm. You're gonna make me do the hard pitch, aren't you? How's that, um, stolen grace inside you working out?” Metatron asked.

“It's fine,” Castiel said firmly. It wasn’t. There was something wrong with it, something different, uncomfortable. But he wasn’t going to tell that to Metatron.

“No. It's not,” Metatron said. “It's burning out. It's gonna burn you out. But I will give you an endless supply of rechargeable batteries. Deal?”

Castiel didn’t show his panic on his face. _Does that mean I’m dying?_

Fortunately, just then, a woman entered the room. “Sorry to interrupt your writing session, sir, but something's happened.”

“What's wrong?” Metatron asked.

“It's Gadreel,” the woman said.

***Ember POV***

April 16, Early morning

“What’s up, Sam?” Ember said, answering her phone.

“Metatron has Cas,” Sam said immediately. “He’s offering up a trade for Gadreel. Later tomorrow – well, _today,_ I guess, since it’s so late – at 6. Are you in?”

“Of _course_ I’m in,” Ember said. “What’s the plan?”

But for all of their planning, the trade occurred exactly as Metatron had planned, despite their attempts to trap him. Gadreel was traded for Castiel, and then Metatron, Gadreel, and the rest of Metatron’s army left. “You, and your little brother, and your half-demon pet, and your fine feathered friend, and all those secrets you’ve got locked away in your bunker can’t stop me,” Metatron said to Dean. “But I am gonna enjoy watching you try. It’s gonna be a hell of a show.”

Next, Metatron turned to Castiel. “I’ll see you around, Castiel. Never forget, I gave you a chance.” And Metatron and Gadreel both disappeared.

“Somebody want to tell me what the hell's going on here?” Dean asked irritably.

“Metatron is trying to play God,” Castiel said.

“Play God?” Sam asked. “Cas, he erased our angel warding. He friggin' blew out holy fire. He _is_ God. He's powering up with the angel tablet. How the hell are we supposed to stop this guy?”

“All right, so what if there is a stairway to Heaven?” Dean asked. “We find it and get a drop on the guy.”

“You want to sneak onto the Death Star, take out the emperor?” Sam asked.

“Okay I... I'm not sure what a fictional battle station in space has to do with this, but if taking out the emperor means taking out Metatron, I'm on board,” said Castiel.

Ember, Dean, and Sam looked at each other.

“Cas,” Ember said slowly.

“Wait, did you... did you just understand a Death Star reference?” Dean asked slowly.

“Yeah, I think so,” Castiel said. “But I don't understand what that has to do with Heaven.”

“It's halfway, I guess,” said Sam.

“You sure you're all right?” Dean asked Castiel.

“Yes. Are you?” Castiel asked. “There's something different about you.”

Dean patted Castiel on the arm. “I'm fine.”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s arm and pushed up his sleeve, revealing a mark Ember had read about over the weekend in one of the books about defeating Knights of Hell.

“Dean!” Ember said sharply. “Is that-…”

“What have you done?” Castiel asked Dean, alarmed.

“It's a means to an end,” Dean said.

“Damn it, Dean,” said Castiel.

“Look, you find Heaven, you drop a dime. Meantime, I got a knight to kill.” And he stomped off back to the Impala.

Ember was left with Sam and Castiel now. “Be safe out there,” Sam said awkwardly to the couple.

“You too,” said Castiel, and Ember echoed his statement. “Hey Sam?” Sam looked up. “You keep an eye on him,” Castiel finished.

***Castiel POV***

April 24

In one day, everything had shattered. 

First of all, he was dying. He knew that now. Perhaps he had known it for awhile, but never really wanted to admit it. How long did he have? Two months? A year?

And then there was Dean, with the Mark of Cain. How could Dean have done it? Did he know what he had done to himself? Did he understand the consequence of accepting that Mark? That part, at least, he could be open with Ember about. “More of Dean’s stupid decision-making,” she had called it once he had explained the situation to her. “I’m glad I’ve moved on.”

But Dean was Castiel’s best friend, and Castiel had hurt him by going out with Ember – he understood that now. And Castiel knew, better than Dean himself, that Ember may be the only person who could truly get through to Dean now that he had taken on the Mark. Dean would need Ember, far more than Castiel would.

And finally, there was the angel war. Being a rogue angel, a “fallen angel”, was one thing. Being the leader against Metatron was something different entirely. He would’ve been kidding himself if he hadn’t admitted that this created a much greater risk for their continued relationship. And _this_… Metatron would know everything about Ember, from Gadreel.

He had enjoyed being a human - at least, the parts where he was with Ember. Perhaps in a perfect world, he could have settled down with her. He’d known an angel who had done that once, Akobel. He had been a good man… until they had had a Nephilim, an angelic child. Castiel would never make that mistake, he thought. 

But this was not a perfect world. He was Castiel, fallen angel, and despite his best efforts, he had once again been called upon to lead the angels. He knew what he had to do.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember did not seem surprised at all, though her eyes filled with tears. 

“I knew it,” she said, unable to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. “I knew it, as soon as you stole that grace.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. “You know it’s not because I want to. It’s not because I don’t - ….”

“I know,” Ember said tersely, cutting him off. “But that doesn’t make it any better.”

“And besides, Dean needs you,” Castiel said. 

Ember looked angry, suddenly. “What the hell has Dean got to do with this?”

“Ember, Dean took on the Mark of _Cain_. I’ve told you what that means. You’re one of the two people he cares most about, I can see it when he’s near you. He loves you, Ember. And _we need that_.”

“Dean Winchester’s love for me shouldn’t determine my destiny _or_ my love life!” Ember snapped.

“It _shouldn’t _but it _does,” _Castiel said calmly. “Do you not understand? We do _not_ want _Dean Winchester_, of all people, going dark.”

“I thought you said it was inevitable,” Ember said.

“It _is,”_ Castiel said derisively. “But let’s not speed it up.” 

Ember looked at him, her eyes blazing. “So what am I supposed to do? What, are you, like, _whoring_ me out to Dean Winchester?”

Castiel looked at her, suddenly angry. Tears were sliding down her face, and he couldn’t ever remember being this miserable. “_I’m _leaving for _your_ safety,” he spat at her. “I didn’t want this, you know that. I’ve made mistakes, and I have to make them right.”

“You _promised_,” Ember said. “You promised, remember? You said you would pray to the angels, and if you survived, we could settle down.” Her eyes were full of accusations, and she spat them at him.

“Yes, but now I can do some _real_ good,” he said. “I can put this back together, I can make it _right_. You wouldn’t love me if I didn’t try to fix my mistakes, we both know that.”

She gave him an angry look, but didn’t respond for a second – he was right, and she knew it. Finally, however, she said, “Fine. Say you win this war, you and your followers. Say you put it right, and Heaven opens again. Then what?+”

She was leaving the door open for him, he understood that. It was a tempting offer, and one he desperately wanted – a life with Ember, for however long Ember was alive. Before he knew that he was dying, he had even thought about waiting until she was old, then removing his grace himself to die with her, like they did in so many of the movies Metatron had shown him.

He was dying, though. And, as much as he hated it, she would be better with Dean. Dean might not be better for her, but the world would be better for it. She could help Dean fight the darkness that Castiel knew was growing inside of him. Ember would be good at that – taking in a wounded puppy off the street and giving it love and faith. Hadn’t that been what she had done for Castiel? Plus, Castiel knew that Dean and Ember still loved each other – he had seen it in both of their minds.

He never should have been with Ember. It was eight months of pure bliss in an otherwise bleak existence, but it never should’ve happened. And so he said, “Then, my place is in Heaven.” She turned away, tears streaming down her face.

“Call me if you need me,” he told her. “I will always come if you need me.”

And then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a really short chapter, but for the life of me it wouldn't combine with any other parts of any other chapters, so here it is.


	39. King of the Damned Stairway to Heaven

***Ember POV***

May

Ember was devastated after Castiel broke up with her. He was everything she had wanted – he was kind, caring, duty-bound, and he had – at least while they were together – discussed decisions with her before he had made them. Even the decision they had disagreed upon the most, him praying to the angels for help, had been discussed a million times before Castiel had finally gone about it. And, even when he _had_ gone about it, he had told her before doing so, and ensured Ember’s and her family’s safety. 

In the end, however, Castiel was right, and Ember knew it. These new duties he was taking on left no time for a girlfriend and a family, nor was it safe for a human family in particular to have any ties to the angel. Ember knew that Castiel would be a far better leader for Heaven than Metatron, and from the small bits of information she caught from Sam, Dean, or Castiel himself, she knew that he was becoming a formidable opponent.

What mystified her, however, was Castiel’s insistence that he would never return, even if things with Metatron resolved themselves. Perhaps, like with Dean, things would _never_ resolve themselves enough for Castiel to truly settle down with a wife. Still, Ember was completely mystified at his refusal to leave the door open for something in the future. She had been sure Castiel loved her more than that. It was this mystery that left a nagging, unsolved feeling in the pit of Ember’s stomach, and it was here that her thoughts returned when they began to wander.

In reality, though, Ember was busier than she had ever been. Josephine was a senior, which came with all sorts of ceremonies and parties. She was also preparing for college, which had been a monumental project as a parent. Josephine, Aidan, and even Krissy, who had been invited by a junior, were attending Prom. Work, also, had never been busier for Ember.

On May 2nd, not two weeks after Ember and Castiel had broken up, Ember saw two angels lurking around her house, which was now warded completely against angels once again. 

“Castiel!” Ember said hurriedly over the phone. “There are two angels standing at my doorway.”

“What do they want?” he asked. There was a trace of concern in his voice, Ember noted, but it was brusque, and business-like. She felt her heart sink even lower.

“They won’t say,” she said. “They just asked me to come out.”

“What do they look like?”

“One’s black with black leather pants and a leopard-print top. The other is male, white, wearing a suit, and thin,”

“I don’t know the man,” Castiel said, business-like again. “But the woman is Lethandriel. She’s one of Metatron’s, when last we checked. Take the kids and head down to the basement.” 

“Will you come? Or at least send someone?”

“The closest are Dean and Sam. We don’t have news of any other angels in the area, so you should be okay until they get there. I’ll call them.”

_Click._

Dean and Sam came immediately, and the brothers, Ember, and the children killed the two angels with no trouble.

“Metatron might send others. We knew it was a risk,” Castiel said when Ember, Sam, and Dean called to report back to Castiel. “We discussed this, after we found out Gadreel was working with Metatron. It seems now they want to use you against me. It’s not safe anymore. You’ll need to move out. I’m sorry.”

Castiel’s voice was cold, and Ember felt a stab of misery. “Cas, it’s not that simple,” Ember said. “The kids are still in school. Even if we moved somewhere else, I can’t pull them out of school. They’re out in a _month_, and it-…”

“I can send guards,” Castiel said abruptly. “But not all the time. We’re scraping for soldiers as it is. You’ll still have to go to the bunker on the weekends.”

_It’s wonderful that you can send guards _sometimes _to guard the person you were screwing two weeks ago now that you became a damn Commander._

“We’ll be happy to have them,” Sam said.

“I can stand guard whenever you can’t spare any angels,” Dean said.

_I just _bet_ you can._

“That would certainly make things easier,” Castiel said. “It’d still be safest for you to move into the bunker in June, Ember.”

_Fuck you, Castiel._ “I hope the war will be over by then,” Ember snapped tersely. “But if it’s not, I _suppose _I have no _choice.”_

When she explained the news to the children, Krissy was more than thrilled, as she wanted to be a hunter when she grew up, and this provided her with an opportunity to learn from Dean Winchester himself, whom she idolized.

“What was Cas, then, chopped liver?” Ember asked them both one morning.

“Well, first Cas was a human, and he was kind of a homeless bum, when he wasn’t with us being awesome,” Aidan said. “And then he was an angel, and then he was all like, ‘Brush your teeth, or I’ll shine on you with my holy power.”’

Krissy rolled her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ember asked the children.

Krissy sighed. “Castiel was really cool, and he taught us… a _lot._ But he’s an angel. We can never live up to that, or relate to it. Dean is… he _lives the life, _you know?”

Ember narrowed her eyes. It annoyed her that Krissy had so easily agreed to moving into the bunker.

Josephine and Aidan were not as easily convinced, however. Both of them made arrangements to stay in town with friends over the summer. They would be safe, Ember guessed, so long as they were out of the house, which had been made. Castiel had marked the ribs of all three children with Enochian to hide them from angels as soon as his angel powers had been returned to him back in December, so no angels would be able to find them that way.

Getting through the remainder of the school year was difficult. Almost a week before the end of the school year, more angels came. One of Castiel’s angel guards was killed in the ensuing fight. Castiel sent additional angel guards, and fortunately these remained alive until the schoolyear had completed. 

The looming threat of attacking angels during the month of May unfortunately gave Dean more than enough reason to find excuses to be over more often, and for Ember and the children to come to the bunker as often as possible. Annoyingly, Ember had to admit to herself that Castiel had been right about the Mark of Cain. The change in Dean wouldn’t have been apparent to anyone else, but Ember knew Dean very well. She saw, before it became apparent to Sam or even Dean himself, a change in her old boyfriend. A calm sort of anger seemed to simmer just below the surface, as though constantly threatening. The only time it wasn’t present, she noticed, was when he was around the children.

Dean spent an awful lot of time around the children. In fact, Dean was doing a lot of things to try to win Ember back. He was drinking less. He was confiding in her more – _really_ confiding in her, about important things. Burned by Castiel and suddenly lonely, Ember couldn’t help but notice this. The fact that Dean was a very attractive man was also unhelpful. Still, she was determined – she had been down that road with Dean Winchester before, and it only led to trouble. She would _not_ go down that road again.

Somehow, even _she_ didn’t believe that.

***Ember POV***

May 28th, Early morning

“You’ll never guess who just called,” Dean said, padding down the stairs and putting bacon on the stove. It was the fifth night in a row he had stayed, and Ember was first incredibly turned on, then incredibly annoyed, with how good he looked in the morning. He was fully dressed, whereas when they had been dating he would often wear a robe, she noted. It both annoyed and relieved her. He was getting increasingly close, and between the Mark of Cain, her own protection, and the childrens’ protection, she could do next to nothing to stop it. _Stop waving yourself in front of my face. It’s been over a month. A girl has needs, you asshole._

“Who?” she said, finally remembering that he had asked a question. 

“Cas,” he said. “Haven’t heard from him in at least a week.”

Just like that, Ember stopped thinking of Dean. In Dean’s place, she saw Cas, expertly frying a spread of bacon and passing it to all three children. Cas, who in one week of them being together had cooked more than Ember had in the month since they’d been apart. Cas, making love to her in the bed upstairs... Ember was halfway through eating a piece of toast, and hid her face so that Dean would not see her reaction.

Dean wasn’t stupid. “Sorry,” he said bluntly.

“What’s he want?” Ember asked cooly. Ember hadn’t heard from Castiel personally since his call more than three weeks ago asking her to move to the bunker. She had attempted to call a couple of times, but he seemed to respond only to texts. On two occasions when she had tried to call, he had even called Dean to ask if everything was ok.

Eventually, Ember had gotten the message.

“Don’t know,” Dean said, no longer sounding excited. “He called for Sam and I to come to his ‘Headquarters’, whatever that means. I was planning on heading out after breakfast. From the sound of it, it has something to do with the angel war.”

Ember sighed, still not looking at Dean. “That’s fine,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said again, lowering his voice. “I know you’re still not-… I mean…”

“It’s okay,” Ember said awkwardly, finally looking at him. “If you’re wondering, I was _just _as fucked up when _we_ broke up.” She flashed him a look of loathing before flouncing out of the room to the garage to go to work.

**Ember Cell Phone:** Dean, I’m sorry. You caught me at a bad time. I really appreciate everything you’ve done to help.

**Dean Cell Phone: **No prob. Home tomorrow.

Did Dean mean _home_, or at Ember’s place? Ember wondered.

Apparently, he meant back at Ember’s place. 

***Dean POV***

June 2, Early Afternoon

_Dean felt the first blade in his hands, charging him, and he felt it’s fury-…_

“Dean!” Ember was yelling. She was standing in his room (the guest room at her house), with her work clothes still on, pointing to his phone. “Your phone!”

He looked down to find that his phone was ringing, and had been for some time. That would explain why she had walked into his room. It must’ve been the first time she had come into his room to visit since he had started inhabiting the guest room. There was only one more day of school, and then the children would be coming back to the bunker.

Ember seemed practically numb to his attempts to win her back. At some points, she was even hostile. Still, Dean would be sad to stop spending time in this house. They had decided that he would look after Krissy at the bunker, and she would come visit only on weekends, when she could get a break from her job. The rest of the time, Ember would float, invisible, around motels and abandoned houses, like she had during the time of the Leviathans. 

Dean hated to think of her living like that again, and he hated that he couldn’t talk her out of it. Most of all, he hated not being able to see her every day. Unfortunately, it wasn’t about that anymore. It was about her life, and the lives of her children. 

Crowley was on the phone. “It’s about time, where the hell have you been?” _Finally. The First Blade might actually pay off._

“I told you I’d be in touch when I’d found Abaddon,” Crowley said. “Well… I’m in touch.”

“Where are you?” asked Dean. 

Ember, who had been in the doorway, turned around to listen. Dean suspected she could tell from his voice that it was a more serious phone call than usual. “I’ll give you the location of the First Blade,” Crowley said. “You two fetch it, I’ll keep her in my sights. Then we’ll remove her from the payroll for good.”

“Who was that?” Ember asked.

“Crowley,” Dean said. It wouldn’t do to lie to Ember, not now. “He’s found Abaddon.”

Ember blanched. “Dean, do you want me to come along?”

“No,” Dean said, more gruffly than he intended. “You’ve already got the angels after you. For the moment you’re off demonic radar, let’s keep it that way!” 

He began to gather his belongings, but stopped when he realized that Ember was looking at him strangely.

“What?” he asked her.

“You’ve changed,” she said.

He looked up at her to find her looking back at him with the softest look he’d seen in her eyes in months. The last time she’d had that look, he realized, she had been looking at Castiel.

“I try,” he answered softly, standing up. 

“Dean… good luck,” she said. “Don’t die. And, if you do…”

She moved closer, and closer, and then her lips were on his. It had been _so _long, and Dean was immediately ready. Just as he was about to pull her closer, to tangle his hands in her hair and forget all about Abaddon and the damn First Blade, her lips were gone. She shot him a shy smile, and left the room.

Dean swore under his breath, because he _so_ wanted more, and he _needed_ her, and he was so damn _angry_ all the time… but it had just been a “good luck” kiss.

***Ember POV***

June 20, Morning

Dean had killed Abaddon, but it had been at a price. When he had returned, Dean appeared angrier, surlier somehow. 

Ember was more confused than ever. More and more these days, she felt as though she was somehow supernaturally drawn to Dean. She felt she could not stop looking at him. He was more at home at the bunker, of course, than he was at Ember’s home. He was comfortable enough to walk around in his robe, to occasionally even walk around shirtless when he knew that Krissy was otherwise engaged. She could swear she could constantly smell his aftershave lingering in rooms it shouldn’t have been in – she knew that Dean knew that the smell had always turned her on. On weekends, she watched him, hour after hour, practicing fighting with her children, cooking them food, and treating them like a father. On weekdays, she heard, as if on repeat, the praises that they sang of him. “Dean let us try to fight him today. Once I think I almost beat him!” … “Dean showed us the dungeon!” … “Another hunter called today, and Dean let us look up information for the other hunter in the archives. Have you ever heard of a vetala?”

On the other hand, Ember also knew that something horrible was brewing inside Dean. She saw the looks Sam shot at Dean when they both thought Ember wasn’t looking. She noticed Dean’s obsession with the First Blade, and that it never seemed to be in the same place when Ember saw it, even when the boys had a few days between cases. Ember hated living in abandoned houses and moving, invisible, from motel to motel, but at this point she almost felt it was a saving grace. Whenever she was around Dean during her weekends at the bunker, she felt as though a tidal wave was pulling her under, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Castiel was as absent as ever, though he was often with her in her thoughts. There was so much she didn’t understand, and felt confused about. She had never been the type of woman to seek out men simply for companionship. So why did she feel so drawn to Dean, when it was Castiel she still desperately loved? And if Castiel truly no longer wanted her, and the door was truly closed forever on their relationship, why was he trying so hard to stay away from her? There had been dozens of times he could’ve texted her or called her about something, but instead he had texted or called Dean, or even Sam. They had parted amicably, and they still had business together… none of it made sense.

Finally, on June 20, Sam and Dean staggered back into the bunker after a trip to Dixon, Missouri. Sam was glaring wearily at Dean’s back, and Dean’s head was down and his shoulders were tense. The First Blade was being held by his side, and he was unconsciously touching its hilt.

“_What_ the _hell _happened?” she asked.

“We’ll tell you later,” Dean snapped. It was the first time he had snapped at her in months, and for once he had dropped his “best behavior” charade. 

Ember began to open her mouth again, but caught Sam’s eye and dropped the subject.

The next day, Dean was finally willing to recount the tale. He told her about the suicide bombers that Metatron had brainwashed into thinking they were killing Metatron’s followers in the name of Castiel. He told her about Metatron’s speech to Castiel’s followers, and about how Metatron blamed Castiel for the suicide bombers. He told her about how Castiel’s followers had asked him to prove his loyalty by killing Dean, and when he wouldn’t, they had all left to join Metatron.

“Why would they want him to kill you?” Ember asked Dean. “What have you done to them?”

Dean threw his hands up in the air out of frustration, then unconsciously palmed the First Blade again. “Hell, I don’t know. Angel superiority, I guess. You know how it is. We were lucky to get out of there alive.” But Ember saw, over Dean’s head, a slight twitch of Sam’s eyes, and she knew Dean wasn’t being honest.

It was Monday afternoon, in the middle of work, before Ember could get ahold of Sam at a time Dean wasn’t around.

“I’m only telling you this because you deserve to know,” Sam said. “Please, _please_ don’t tell Dean I told you. And _please_ don’t blame him for not telling you. He’s not in his right mind. He’s-…”

“I know,” Ember said. “I’ve seen the way he’s always touching that damn stupid blade. Cas warned me about it, months ago. He said-…”

“Cas is dying, Ember.” Sam said flatly.

_“What?”_

“His stolen grace,” Sam said. “It’s not a permanent solution. And when it burns out, that’s the end of Castiel.”

Ember’s heart stopped, and then suddenly beat faster. And faster. And faster. Her thoughts began to race, and suddenly it felt like she was drowning.

“Sam, I… I need a few minutes,” she heard herself saying, and hung up the phone.

_So this was why_. This was why he had pushed her toward Dean. This was why he hadn’t expected to return. This is why he had shut the last door on their relationship. This was why he was refusing to call or text. Suddenly, in a horrible whirlwind, everything made sense.

Without thinking about it, Ember fell to the floor in a kneel. “Castiel, I know you can hear me,” Ember prayed. “I know what’s happened. Sam and Dean told me you’re dying. Meet me tomorrow at my house, 6:00 PM.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

At 5:55, Ember trudged, invisible, up to the house she had lived in with her family. It looked so different now – dark, and unfriendly, and foreboding. It was dark inside, and Ember hadn’t planned on turning on the lights or the heat. She also hadn’t planned on not getting off work until late, nor had she planned on it pouring down rain. _Oh well_, she thought. _He probably won’t be here anyway._

Suddenly, though, just as she was wiping off one of the two angel-proofing sigils in the front room, she saw his car pull up.

“Ember!” he shouted. He had an umbrella, which was probably necessary – he couldn’t come into the house until she finished erasing the warding. Ember almost laughed – it made him look silly, somehow, like a character out of Mary Poppins.

“Castiel?” she said, once again becoming visible as she headed outside.

When he saw her, his whole face changed. Where previously he had been openly sad and disgruntled, his face split into a grin at the sight of her. It was like watching the sun rise. She knew, in that moment, that she had been right about his motives for their break-up.

“You didn’t tell me you were dying,” she accused.

Immediately, his face turned fearful, and guilty, and… pleading.

“What did it matter?” he asked her sharply.

She was incensed. “What did it _matter?”_ she asked, heatedly. “I was in _love_ with you! I-…”

“We _shouldn’t_ have been,” he said calmly. The rain was pouring now, and he moved closer to the front of the house, just to hear her. “I never should’ve-... we were lucky you’re still alive.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Metatron, blah, blah, blah,” Ember said. _And look how that turned out_, she wanted to add, but didn’t. At this point, her curiousity and thirst for answers was stronger than her anger at him, and she didn’t want to say something that would send him away again. “But ending this, ending us, permanently? Metatron is one thing, but you wouldn’t even let me wait for you. You shut down all hope, and you _passed me off to Dean!_ _Tell_ me it’s not because you found out you were _dying_, Castiel. Because it’s the only thing that makes sense._”_

”Exactly!” Castiel said heatedly. “I’m dying! And just because you know about it now, nothing has changed! I’m still talking to a lot of different-…” 

“_Why didn’t you tell me?”_ she screamed at the angel. He was on the porch, now, his umbrella hanging to the side. There was barely enough room on the small porch for both of them.

_“Because you would never have left!” _Castiel screamed suddenly. 

There was quiet for a moment. Then, more calmly, he said, “You would have insisted on staying by my side, in secret, or… something. _Despite _Metatron. _Despite _the fact that this war will probably kill me, and if it doesn’t, the stolen grace _will. _And _look_ what I’ve done. You’ve had to leave your _house_, your kids are living in a bunker with Dean, _despite_ the First Blade. You’re back moving around _again_, and we both know how much you hated that with the Leviathans. An angel _died _protecting you, and that’s even _with _the decision I made! _And _you couldn’t even get into Heaven, because it’s _still closed_!”

“Do you know what the last month has been like for me?” Ember screamed back at him. “I’m worried about you all the damn time, I’m worried about my _kids_, and Dean is trying to worm his way back into my life! And the one person I _really_ want to talk to has shut himself off from me completely, and is passing messages through my _ex-boyfriend!”_

“You think I _wanted_ to do that?!” he said. Ember had never seen him like this. He was wild, suddenly, and she wondered if the stress of the fight was getting to him. “I _loved _you! I _still_ love you! I’ll _always _love you! I just can’t _be _around you, because your damn _voice_, and you smell so _good_, and I can’t _stand_ not being with you, but we _can’t!”_

There was a beat. Once again, for the first time in months, Ember saw the desperate, distraught man she had come to know so well when he was a human. His eyes were blown wide, and his pupils were round, and water was running down his face, despite the umbrella. They searched each other’s face for one wild moment.

At the same time, they launched themselves at each other. The umbrella fell out of Castiel’s hands, and Ember clung to the front of his trenchcoat, ripping it off of him. Their mouths attacked one another, and it felt to Ember as though she could finally breathe again. A second later, Castiel had hoisted her upward and pressed her against the wall in front of her house. 

Ember wondered briefly if the neighbors could see her, and if anyone cared, and then decided that she didn’t care, because it felt so good to finally be in his arms again. They were both wet, but somehow it made the friction on their clothes that much better. She clutched Castiel’s back, and he ground upward into her, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

He smelled of rain, and of Castiel, and he had somehow managed to hike her shirt up so that he could reach her bare skin. He splayed his hands out across her hip, shifting her only slightly while still grinding into her. With his touch, an orgasm shot through her so quickly that stars exploded in her head, and she went lax in his arms. He continued to grind into her just slightly, causing tiny little aftershocks that sent chills up and down her spine.

“Damn you and your stupid angel powers,” she said when she had gotten her voice back again.

He smirked, and she understood – he had done it simply because he _could_, and other men couldn’t. It was his way of laying claim, whether he would admit to it or not.

“Stay _right _there, _do not leave,” _she said, extricating herself quickly from his arms. He set her gently on the ground, and looked away. Ember could tell he was both trying to decide whether or not he should leave, and also trying to pretend that he wasn’t still desperate for her.

Ember didn’t give him time to decide to leave. She only let go of his hand for a second to open the door to the house. She used her powers to lift a long screw that had been left on the floor in the front room, then quickly used it to slice up the remaining angel sigil on the wall. After that, she pulled Castiel inside, using her powers again to shut the door behind them.

Castiel looked at her then, his eyes blown wide. He looked thoroughly kissed, but he was clearly terrified of the situation. “Ember, I…”

“Cas, _shut up,” _Ember said. She kissed him again, and this time, it was more sensual. 

He responded eagerly, his hands winding themselves up her back. They kissed deeply for a second, standing in the middle of the forlorn-looking living room. 

Ember felt Castiel becoming more desperate, more voracious, and she smiled slightly as he slid off her top and bra. She in turn peeled off his layers of clothes, wet all the way to his perfect chest. They sighed happily at the skin-to-skin contact, and Castiel wasted no time backing her up onto the room’s single couch and pulling off both pants and panties in the process.

She reached upward to attempt to pull off his pants, but he danced away. “It’s been too long,” he said gruffly, burying his face between her thighs.

She gasped at the onslaught of his tongue, and all too soon she felt an orgasm rip through her _again_, leaving her shaking and panting for breath.

Ember had only just regained her breath when she heard Castiel’s gruff voice again. “Ember… _now.” _Without warning, he plunged inside her, filling her to the hilt, and she clung to him as they moved together. It was a dance that they both knew very well, and one that both had missed desperately in their two months apart.

It was all too much, and yet not enough, and too soon it was over, and both of them laid piled on the sofa, out of breath. Castiel regained his breath before Ember did, and he pulled her close to him, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “I never stopped loving you,” he said. “I never stopped. I never will. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Castiel,” she whispered.

“But… it doesn’t change anything. You must understand that.”

She did. She had known this, too. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and bit her lip so that the tears wouldn’t fall. “Cas, just... promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?”

“Of course,” he answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to change a few things around to give Ember and Cas this gratuitous smut scene. Totally worth it. This chapter got written and rewritten several times, so let me know how you like it.


	40. Do You Believe in Miracles?

***Castiel POV***

June 22, Early Morning

Castiel knew he shouldn’t be here. Here was the last place he should be – at the house that had been _made_ weeks ago by Metatron’s camp, with a girl he didn’t deserve. And yet, he couldn’t leave. _Just a few more hours_, he kept telling himself. A few more hours of watching the way that her hair fell across his arm, and how peaceful she looked as she slept… 

He wondered, truly, if he would ever be able to force himself to leave this bare-looking living room with the one large couch. If Ember didn’t want to leave, perhaps he would stay here for eternity. He had a promise to keep, he thought, to stay until she awoke in the morning, but then he had to leave. He could still fight against Metatron. Angel by angel, he could still convince them there was a better way. He _had_ to. 

He just had to work up the inner strength. Truthfully, it had been heartbreaking to leave Ember the first time, and Castiel had no idea how to attempt a second round.

Suddenly, Ember’s phone rang, and she shot upright. She answered it sleepily, but as the caller spoke her eyes got wider. “What do you mean?” She gasped. “Oh my God, Gadreel? The _dungeon?! _I’m on my way.”

What’s going on?” Castiel asked when Ember hung up the phone.

“When Sam and Dean got back to the bunker, Gadreel showed up, saying he was looking for you. He couldn’t get into the bunker because of the warding we put there for the kids, but it didn’t matter. Dean attacked him with the First Blade, and -…”

“_What_?” said Castiel sharply.

“Yeah, and Sam had to hold him back, and Krissy saw what was going on, and came out and helped!”

“Oh _no,” _said Castiel. “The bunker was supposed to be _safe_ for them!”

“Exactly!” Ember said. “So they locked Dean in the dungeon, Krissy says. And Sam went to go look for Gadreel, because Gadreel ran off after Dean knifed him.”

“I had asked Gadreel if he wanted to switch sides,” Castiel said. “He killed for Metatron, but overall I think he feels misunderstood.”

Ember wrinkled her nose. “I don’t care how he feels, he needs to stay the hell away from my children.”

“We need to get back there now,” said Castiel.

And so, the two set off for Lebanon, Kansas, both of them in Castiel’s car.

***Ember POV***

June 22, Dawn

Ember and Castiel arrived approximately the same time as Sam showed up with Gadreel. Gadreel was hurt badly, visibly bleeding from the chest. Castiel moved immediately to heal him.

“Don’t!” Gadreel said. “Your grace!”

But Castiel ignored him and, with an apologetic look toward Ember, healed him anyway.

“Thank you,” the other angel said.

“We should talk somewhere safer,” Castiel answered. “Can you erase the angel warding? Just in the front room.”

Upon coming inside, however, all four of them smelled sulfur immediately. “I tried to stop them!” Krissy said, appearing suddenly in the main room of the bunker. “But neither of them listened.”

Over the next few minutes, the group of angels, men, and teenagers was able to put together that Dean had summoned Crowley to help him break out of the dungeon and go after Metatron.

“He and Crowley have been bromancing over the Blade ever since Dean got the Mark.”

“Great,” Ember rolled her eyes. “Let’s add that to the list of things he _didn’t tell me.”_

The group ignored her. “The Mark?” Gadreel asked.

“The Mark of Cain,” Castiel clarified.

“So that's what Dean cut me with -- the First Blade. In a way, that could be useful,” said Gadreel.

“Slow down,” said Krissy. “What’s the Mark of Cain?”

“I’ll explain everything to you, Kris, just give me a few minutes,” Ember told them. “Go to your room for now, and in a few minutes I _promise_ I’ll come get you.”

“But-…” Krissy started, but Ember gave her a look, and she begrudgingly headed for her room. Ember made a mental note to thank her for helping hold back Dean, and also soothe over her feelings about the incident with Crowley – later, perhaps, when this conversation was over.

“Metatron is more powerful than ever, but if Dean has the First Blade and the mark, that might give us our best chance,” Gadreel was saying.

“You're joking, right?” Sam asked angrily. “An hour ago, we were ready to throw Dean into a padded cell, and now you say he's our best chance?”

“Hear him out, Sam,” Castiel said, and Ember felt a flash of annoyance toward Cas. She didn’t want anything to do with this angel, and she _definitely_ didn’t like that he was in the bunker.

Sam seemed to feel similarly. “Oh, right. Excuse me. Sorry, guys. Uh, sorry I'm a little less than eager to hear that our best chance is -- is arming the warhead and hoping it hits the mark. This is not a bomb we're talking about. This is my brother.”

“And your brother would not be in this alone,” Gadreel countered. “We can help.”

“How?” asked Sam and Ember.

“I believe Metatron has found a way to tap into the Angel tablet, harnessing its power to give him powers equivalent to --…”

“God, right?” Sam filled in. “I mean, that's what this is all about, isn't it? Metatron wants to be God.”

Gadreel nodded.

“Great, well, that basically makes him unstoppable,” said Sam.

“Not if we can break the connection between Metatron and the tablet,” said Gadreel. “That would make him just an ordinary Angel.”

“Where's the tablet?” asked Castiel.

“Metatron's office,” said Gadreel.

“In Heaven?” asked Ember.

“I can get us to the door,” Gadreel answered.

“And then what?” asked Ember. “Does anybody else think that this plan is most likely _not _going to work?”

“Why would they let you in?” asked Sam. “If Metatron's number two shows up with Heaven's most wanted…” he shook his head hopelessly.

“Sam, we have to try,” answered Castiel.

***Ember POV***

June 23, Noon

The next day, Crowley and Dean found Sam and Ember while looking for clues of Metatron’s location. As Ember watched Dean get out of the Impala, she was struck immediately with how attractive he was, how _hot _he was, how much she wanted him-

_What the hell is wrong with me?_ Ember asked herself. She had had _sex_ with Castiel the night before last, and there was literally _no_ appropriate reason for her to be having these thoughts. Granted, she had been growing closer to Dean – _again_ – for two months now, but this was _way_ over the top. She wanted to be with Castiel, regardless of whether or not it was requited. 

“Sam, whatever kind of intervention you think this is, trust me, it ain't. I'm not gonna explain myself to you,” Dean said.

“Yeah, I sort of got that. I just thought you might like to know that while you two have been playing, uh, odd couple, your real friends, like Cas, like the angel you stabbed, Gadreel --they're out there right now risking their asses to help you win this fight.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked. _He was sexy when he was mad… what the hell?_

“A fight, I might add, you made that much more complicated when you decided to stab the one angel who could actually get us to Metatron,” Sam answered.

“You mean the angel that took you for a joy ride?” Dean asked. “The angel that slaughtered Kevin? That angel?” _He was right, _Ember thought._ Why were they working with Gadreel? Gadreel had betrayed Sam. Dean was right, he needed to die._

_ What the hell? _Another voice asked. _Gadreel is with Castiel. You remember, Castiel? You slept together two nights ago? Castiel and Gadreel are trying to break open Heaven. Dean has been hanging out with Crowley… Dean…_

“Who you let in the front door in the first place,” Sam said. “You tricked me, Dean. And now I'm the one who wakes up in the middle of the night seeing my hands killing Kevin, not you. So, please, when you say you don't want to explain anything to me, don't. I get it. And I also get that Metatron has to go. And I know you're our best shot to do that.”

“I'm gonna take my shot, for better or worse,” Dean said. _Go Dean, Go!_

“I know,” Sam said.

“No matter the consequences,” Dean said. _What consequences?_

“I know,” Sam said again. “But if this is it, we're gonna do it together.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

That evening, at the first possible opportunity, Ember pulled Sam aside. Dean was getting gas at a gas station, and Ember had texted Sam that she needed a moment alone with him.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked her.

“Something’s wrong with me,” she said immediately.

“What are you talking about?”

“Ever since Dean got the First Blade, it’s like… we’ve been growing… closer.”

“Well, that’s good, right? I mean, I’m probably not supposed to say, but he’s wanted you-…”

“No, Sam, listen, it’s not like that!” Ember said. “I’m in love with Castiel! I keep thinking about Dean all the time, but when my head is clear, then I only think about Castiel-…”

“Ember, you’re my best friend, but do you really think now is the time-…”

Ember realized she wasn’t explaining herself properly. “Sam, that’s not it!” 

She was so flustered, and she had even begun to cry. She could tell by the look on Sam’s face that he was alarmed, suddenly. “Remember what it was like with Famine? How everybody was going crazy with… hunger, for… for _whatever?”_

“You’re saying that’s how it is with you and Dean, and Cas?”

“No,” Ember said, calming some. “Just Dean.”

Sam looked surprised. “I thought at first I was just growing closer to him because he was around more, and he was trying to win me back, and he was taking care of the kids. But ever since he killed Abaddon, it’s gotten worse. And then, over the past few hours, it’s been… _unbearable._ Like, it feels like when Famine was around, like he’s _all I can think about._ And I can’t help but think – didn’t he kill that reaper since I saw him last? Tessa? That’s the only thing that’s changed?”

“I don’t understand,” Sam said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Are you saying that you’re more… _attracted_ to him the more people he kills?”

“The more people he kills with the First Blade,” Ember said, nodding, another frightened tear escaping her eye. “I don’t understand it either, but it’s the only thing that fits.”

“How does that _fit?”_ asked Sam.

Ember shrugged. “Half-demon,” she reminded him. “We don’t know _what_ my magic does, not entirely, or even its abilities.”

“So…” Sam looked at Ember and spread his hands wide, as if asking, “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know, Sam, just… keep me from jumping his bones, okay? Until we figure out what the hell is going on!”

It was at that moment that Dean came into the gas station to pay for his gas. “Are you two ready to go, then? What’s the hold-up?”

Ember shot Sam a terrified look as her thoughts immediately returned to Dean, but there was no time to say anything else.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Finally, they had found Metatron. “He’s up there,” Sam told Dean. “About a mile up the road. There’s a homeless encampment. The way the folks are talking, he's got them convinced he's some kind of new Jesus or something.”

Dean nodded. “You good?” Sam asked.

Ember nodded, though she was only halfway listening. _Dean…_

“Yeah, I'm good,” Dean said.

Sam reached over and picked up the First Blade, handing it to Dean in silence.

“Listen, Sammy, about, um, you know, the last couple of months…” Dean began.

“I know,” Sam said. “So, before we find something else to fight about… Are you ready to gut this bitch?”

He turned to pick up his bag, but as he turned around once more to face Dean, Dean punched him, knocking him out cold.

Ember woke up as if out of a stupor. “Dean!” she screamed. 

Then she saw his fist heading for her face as well, and then she saw no more.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember woke up to find large hands picking her up. “Ember,” said Sam softly.

“Wha!” Ember said, awakening immediately and with a start. “Sam!” she said, looking up into his face. 

Something was wrong. His face was shining with tears. And then she saw it. In the passenger seat of the Impala sat a lifeless Dean. His body was beaten and bruised, and in his chest was a large, gaping wound. She screamed, and began sobbing. The world was breaking open. Everything, _everything_ was ending. Ember had never felt pain like this – not when she was younger, not when Carl died, not when she and Dean broke up, not even when Castiel dumped her. It was pure and total agony, both physical and mental.

She refused to be moved from his side, even when they returned to the bunker, and Sam went to have a drink.

She was there, therefore, when Crowley appeared. For the first time in hours, she looked away from Dean. “_You _got him into this mess. Now make it _right,” _she spat venomously.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” he said, shrugging. 

Crowley turned to Dean, who still lay lifeless, and began to talk. “Sam, bless his soul, is summoning me as I speak. Make a deal, bring him back. It's exactly what I was talking about, isn't it? It's all become so... expected. You have to believe me. When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain, I didn't know this was going to happen. Not really.”

“Make it _right_, Crowley,” Ember spat at him again. 

“I mean, I might not have told Dean the entire truth,” Crowley said, turning toward Ember. “But I never lied. That's important. It's fundamental. But...there is one story about Cain that I might have... forgotten to tell him.” Crowley paused dramatically. “Apparently, he, too, was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the Mark wanted him to be. So he took his own life with the Blade. He died. Except, as rumor has it, the Mark never quite let go. You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter at mere speculation?”

Some inkling from long ago stirred, and Ember felt distantly that she should care about his words. But nothing mattered, now, except that Dean was dead, and Crowley hadn’t moved to fix it…

“It wasn't until Dean summoned me... No, it wasn't truly until he left that cheeseburger uneaten...that I began to let myself believe. Maybe miracles do come true.” He looked at Ember closely then, as if he were studying her, and Ember felt a chill go down her spine, though she wasn’t sure why. “And two, for the price of one!” he continued. “Old magic, I think. A demon blood bond. When both have demon ties, and one falls, so shall its mate. An old conversion method… antiquated, really, but not unheard of.”

Ember could feel that part of her was terrified – truly terrified, as though something terrible was about to happen. But surely it already _had _happened, because Dean was dead…

Crowley turned back to Dean. “Listen to me, Dean Winchester, what you're feeling right now -- it's not death. It's life -- a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon,” Crowley said. He placed the First Blade in Dean’s hands.

The moment the First Blade touched Dean’s hands, Ember stopped caring about everything. She stopped caring that Castiel had overthrown Metatron, and that the door to Heaven could be used by all angels again. She didn’t care that the ghosts in the veil were once more able to get to Heaven. She didn’t care about Josephine getting ready for college, or Aidan getting ready for his senior year, or Krissy at the bunker. She didn’t care about Sam, or even, miraculously, about Castiel, the man she loved. 

And she didn’t care about anything for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now things really start to get interesting…


	41. Black

***Sam POV***

July 15, Evening

“This was a _bad_ idea,” Castiel told Sam. “How could you _do _this?”

Sam hung his head. He had felt guilt before – after Jessica died, and after he’d been soulless. This was different, though – this, he had done with full knowledge and intent. Still, he steeled himself for his answer. “He’s my _brother_, Cas, and she’s my best friend. There’s _nothing _I wouldn’t do. Besides, don’t you want him back? Don’t you _love_ her?”

“That’s neither here nor there,” Castiel said steadily, refusing to be derailed. It was an awful thing to do, Sam.”

“I didn’t force him into it,” Sam said with clenched teeth. “Shut up, here he comes.”

A stooped, elderly man with a cane walked slowly forward through the woods. They watched in silence as he buried a small box beneath the dirt in the crossroads. Sam held his breath, and for a beat nothing happened.

“Barry Fox,” said a young African-American woman. “You’re my kind of customer.” She flashed her red eyes.

Sam walked out of the bushes, Castiel tagging along behind him. The elderly man looked surprised, his eyes narrowing slightly; the demon did not.

“Winchester,” the demon said. “We were wondering when we’d be seeing you. That’s why they sent _me_.”

“Who are _you?” _asked Sam, narrowing his eyes at the new demon.

“Nefertiti,” she said. “Queen of the Crossroads. How very _not_ nice to meet you. I assume there’s a Devil’s Trap for me, under all the dirt?” She used her foot to scrape away at some of the dirt, revealing bright orange spray paint lines of the Devil’s trap Sam had spent the past hour meticulously covering.

“Where’s my brother?” Sam said, walking up to the edge of the Devil’s Trap. “You tell me, you go free. You don’t…” Sam held up the demon knife to demonstrate.

“Hey, young man, what’s up?” Barry Fox said. “You said to come at midnight and bury the box-…”

“Just leave,” Sam told Barry, not looking at him.

“But you said-…”

“Winchester here needed someone else to summon me,” Nefertiti explained. “Demons don’t show up anymore for Winchesters. The body count got too high.” She turned to Sam. “Still, I never _really_ thought you would _actually_ stoop so low, Sam Winchester. Did you _really_ talk Barry over there into selling his soul?”

Sam was not as skilled as Dean was in hiding his feelings in front of demons, and couldn’t help the guilty look that crossed his features. 

The demon smiled. “What’s the matter, Sam Winchester? Trouble in paradise? What could _possibly_ make a Winchester break bad?” She smiled a smile that did not reach her eyes, and chilled Sam’s blood. 

“Where is my brother?!!?” Sam asked again, grabbing the demon by the arm. He sliced, and Nefertiti cried out as a red gash appeared on her arm.

“Young man!” Barry screamed from across the Devil’s Trap. “I thought-…”

“Shut up, Barry!” Sam yelled again, still not looking at the older man.

“WHERE’S MY BROTHER?!?!” Sam asked again, holding the knife out in front of Nefertiti’s face.

“I don’t know where your brother is,” Nefertiti said silkily. Sam had the impression that she wasn’t even scared, which made him even angrier. “Nor would I tell you if I knew.”

Sam stabbed into Nefertiti’s other arm, and she cried out again, but this time Sam didn’t stop – he slid a line from her elbow all the way to her wrist.

When he was done, Nefertiti grinned again, and leaned closer, her arm dripping blood. “You Winchesters sure aren’t living up to the legend,” she said silkily. “Can’t even find your own brother?” Then, to Sam’s amazement, and pure shock, she took his left arm and threw him, with the strength of a bull, out of the Devil’s Trap. Her aim was true, and she knocked over Castiel, who was in Sam’s path. Sam felt his shoulder bone disconnect from his socket, and heard a large _crack_. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized with a sinking stomach that Barry’s foot was busy erasing his side of the Devil’s Trap. Then a horrible pain pierced his chest, and Sam looked down to find that a knife had impaled him to the hilt. Then he knew no more.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

When Sam awoke, it was light outside. The first thing he noticed was that his shoulder hurt, horribly. 

The second thing he noticed was that his chest _didn’t_ hurt. Shouldn’t he be _dead?_ He tried to move, and found that sitting up caused horrible pain in his shoulder, and only a dull ache in his chest. 

When he sat up, he saw, to his horror, Castiel, lying on his side, clearly passed out as well. “Cas!” Sam exclaimed, jumping up. Every movement of his shoulder gave him shooting pains, but he managed to make it over to Castiel. He tapped Castiel on the shoulder with his good arm, and nearly collapsed with relief when Castiel gave a small grunt.

Sam shouted the angels’ name a few more times, and smacked him lightly in the face. Finally, Castiel’s eyes opened slightly, and he smiled. “Sam,” he said softly.

“Cas, are you okay?” Sam asked. “What happened?”

“I healed you,” the angel said softly. He gave a couple of coughs.

Sam had forgotten about his shoulder for a second, and paid for his lapse in memory when pain shot down his shoulder again as he attempted to take his shirt off to look at his chest.

Castiel winced. “I’m sorry about that,” he said, his voice still barely a whisper. “I’m... my grace is failing. I had to… prioritize.” Castiel nodded very slightly at Sam’s chest.

Managing to get his shirt open, Sam saw that underneath the bloody clothing was a somewhat raw, red patch of skin, but otherwise he was healed.

“What happened after I passed out?” Sam asked.

“I’m not sure,” Castiel said. “I healed you. That wound was right to your heart. You had only seconds. I… I think I passed out myself, after that.” Castiel then went into a fit of coughing.

Sam looked at the angel. “I suppose they did the deal after that,” he told Castiel. “Maybe they both thought we were dead.”

Castiel nodded, his body still wracked with coughs. Guilt overtook Sam again. Remembering to use the correct arm this time, he hoisted himself off of the ground and offered his good arm to the angel. “Let’s go home, Cas.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

An hour later, Castiel finally spoke. “I’m sorry I didn’t heal your shoulder, Sam. I can heal it now, if you’d like.”

Sam glanced at his shoulder, which seemed to be sticking out the wrong way. “Every time you heal someone, your grace fails a little more, doesn’t it?” he asked the angel sharply.

Castiel took a long time to answer, but finally he said, “Yes.”

Sam was silent for a second. “My shoulder will heal on its own,” he said. “I’ll… I’ll go to a doctor.” The idea seemed foreign to him, but the angel appeared more guilty than surprised.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Castiel said again.

An hour later, Castiel spoke again. “I don’t have much time left,” he said.

“I know,” Sam told him. “I’m… I’m sorry.” In the three hours since Castiel had healed him, Castiel had yet to stop coughing. At one point, Sam was certain that Castiel had coughed up blood. 

“I would heal you again, if you would let me,” said Castiel.

“I won’t,” Sam said.

Castiel was silent for awhile. Then he said, “I don’t want you to watch me die, Sam.”

“What?” asked Sam in surprise.

“Please understand, if you find any leads on Dean and Ember, I _need_ to know,” Castiel said. “Please, _please_ tell me. I’ll continue to look around, as well.” He paused. “But… I don’t want you to watch me die. Ember… she left me a key to the house we used to live in, with the children. I should like to die there, in peace.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, looking sharply at Castiel in the passenger seat. “What about the children?” he asked the angel sharply. “They like having you at the bunker. They’ll never forgive me if I come back without you.”

Castiel shook his head. “They’d spend more time caring for me, and worrying about me, if I came back to the bunker,” he said. “They’ve got enough to worry about as it is. And it’s… what Ember would want. For them. They’ve seen enough in their lives.”

Sam looked at the angel again, and was stunned at the emotion showing in his eyes. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” he asked.

Castiel nodded once.

“What if she came back?” Sam asked. “And she wanted you back? Would you…”

“I’m dying, Sam,” Castiel said, not looking at him. “What is there to be gained by drawing it out?”

Sam was silent. It occurred to him that if he were Dean, he would have come up with some way to persuade Castiel to search for a way to keep living. Sam had learned from Gadreel, though, that that wasn’t always what was best. After everything he had done for them, they owed Castiel that much.

Plus, what right did he have to attempt to convince Castiel of how to live his life? Sam had convinced a man to sell his soul, despite Castiel’s misgivings, despite what he knew was right. And he’d do it again. He was already _planning_ to try again. 

***Ember POV***

July 27, Afternoon

The good-looking man – the one with the longish brown hair – was too handsy. Nobody – nobody but Dean, anyway – touched Ember until _she_ said so. Granted, that had been the general idea, bringing him back to her room. Still, Ember liked a bit of foreplay. Throwing her down on the bed and attempting to have his way with her was _not_ something Ember appreciated in sexual partners she had just met.

“Too handsy!” Ember screamed, using her powers to propel the man onto the ceiling. He crashed there with a sickening _thud_, then rebounded down onto Ember’s bed, unconscious. Ember stared at him for a second, then rolled her eyes and got up to light a cigarette. 

Ember was smoking peacefully two minutes later when Dean opened the door. He looked at the man on the bed, narrowed his eyes, and looked back at Ember. “What happened to him?”

“Too handsy too quickly,” Ember said.

Dean started toward the man. “Don’t bother,” Ember said, putting her cigarette out on the dresser next to the bed. “I already knocked him out I think.”

Dean said nothing, but stopped his progress toward the unconscious man on the bed. “Could’ve asked me if you wanted a fuck.”

“_’Tried _to,” Ember said, still not looking at Dean. “You were banging the blond waitress again, so I had to go for other options.”

“Only because _you _were nowhere to be found,” Dean shot back at her.

“’’Not my job to be around every time you wanna bang,” Ember said, looking at him finally. “_Some_body has to do the robbing around here. Can’t afford these 5-star hotels on _your_ salary.” It echoed something she had said to him, once, back when they both cared. She looked him up and down. “Free now, though, if you’re interested.” She used her powers to roll the unconscious man onto the floor, making the point that the bed was unoccupied. He hit the floor with a soft _thud_, which both demons ignored.

He looked her up and down, and they collided in a tangle of limbs and power. 

***Castiel POV***

August 7, Day

Castiel felt horrible. And miserable. All he wanted to do was sleep. He had heard of human sickness before, but he was starting to wonder how sick he would get before he actually died.

The phone on his night stand began to ring. He was annoyed with it, until he saw that it was Sam. The younger Winchester brother never called just to talk, so there must be some sort of news. “Sam. Hello,” he said.

“I think I might have found something,” Sam said.

“Oh good, good,” said Castiel. Then a painful cough cut off his ability to speak. He really needed to get to the drug store and ingest some of this cough medicine the kids kept telling him about when they called him. He doubted it would do much good, but perhaps in larger quantities it might at least begin to help. It certainly couldn’t make things _worse_.

“Cas? You there?” Sam asked.

“It's okay, I'm...um...I'm okay. Go...go on.” He continued to cough.

“Alright, get this,” said Sam. “A "John Doe" who was murdered in Wisconsin a week ago turns out to be this guy named Drew Nealy who went missing from a religious order in Northern Ohio...okay?”

Castiel remembered happier times, when he would’ve been better at following that conversation. “Yeah?”

“Now, Drew Nealy had been missing for 3 years,” Sam continued. “Killed his wife, his kids...just disappeared. I know it's thin, but...if this guy was possessed...”

“That would make him the first-…” but he was cut off by more coughing.

“The first lead, the first anything we've seen in...” Sam trailed off, and Castiel continued to cough.

“Sorry,” said Castiel.

“Actually...you know what...now that I'm looking at this more I think I uh...I think I jumped the gun here, buddy.”

Castiel’s heart sank. Finally, _finally_ there was news, and he was completely _worthless_. A damn _worthless_ angel. “No, Sam, you said it was something.”

“Yeah...uh...it's...it's not. I was wrong, sorry.”

“I can help,” Castiel protested.

“Cas...we tried that,” Sam said.

“Sam...you can't blame what that demon did to your shoulder on me; you were out of...” He had started to say _out of line_, but perhaps this wasn’t the time.

“I'm not, I'm not blaming anything on you. What happened, happened, and...you need to be worrying about yourself. I really shouldn't have bothered you.”

“How are you, Sam?” Castiel asked, still trying to get information out of the younger Winchester.

“Good. I'm alright. I'm just...tired, you know. Be better when we get them back...after...after I kick his butt.”

“I miss them,” said Castiel solemnly.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “At least they’re together.”

Castiel was silent for a second. He didn’t share the same relief over this. “Why would they just disappear?” he asked finally.

“Who said they had a choice?” asked Sam.

Castiel shook his head, setting off a coughing fit. When he had recovered, he said, “It still makes no sense.”

“And Heaven couldn’t give you any clues?” Sam asked.

“I told you, all of the oldest resources and books in Heaven have been ransacked and stolen,” Castiel said. “Besides, this is Hell lore. Crowley would know, if anyone.”

“Yeah, well, _Crowley_ is the one that got Dean mixed up in this crap in the first place,” Sam reminded Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mind writing Jared Padelecki's shoulder injury into my fanfiction, but only because the story surrounding it was so freaking hilarious. All hail Master Chou. Seriously, people, look it up. Also, Demon Ember makes me giggle.


	42. Reichenbach

***Castiel POV***

August 9, Daytime

The next few days were highly eventful for Castiel. Hannah, an angel who had been vital to overthrowing Metatron, showed up asking for Castiel’s help tracking down a couple of stray angels. It had been a disaster, but Castiel felt as though Hannah was at least starting to see why humans were so special.

When his phone rang again and it was Sam, he looked at it with trepidation.

“You need to get to Beulah, North Dakota – now,” Sam said when he finally answered.

“I do?”

“Yes. Ember and Dean were there, with Crowley. We’ve got to pick up their trail.”

“Good. Great,” said Castiel. He was happy there was news about Dean and Ember, but he was also _so_ tired. Then there was Hannah, and explaining to her about Ember and Dean was going to add another complication.

“Yeah, um...not so much. Cas... Dean’s a demon. And if Ember is with him I think… I think they both must be.”

Castiel’s breath seemed stolen from him. He thought back to Ember’s pride in her ability to control her demon side. “_She’ll be really upset about the 13 humans she killed, and how close she got to going ‘dark side’”… “Castiel, I may be a half-demon, but I’m pretty sure I’m more _righteous_ than you today...” _Sam had told him that Ember was influenced by the Mark’s influence on Dean, but he still didn’t understand how Dean had gone from apparently dead to being a demon. “Dean's a demon? How?”

“The Mark,” said Sam. “I-I guess it --it just messed him up. I don't know.”

“That is a vast understatement,” said Castiel.

“Right. Now, Cas, listen. I know you're not feeling so hot, but this is kind of an ‘all hands on deck’ situation here, so...”

Castiel understood. “So... I'll meet you there.”

***Dean POV***

August 9, Evening

Dean walked up to the large house, thinking over his conversation with Crowley. “_The fact is...you need to kill now. Not want to, not choose to --need to._ _Face it, darling. You're an addict. Death is your drug. And you're gonna spend the rest of your life chasing that dragon. I'm here to facilitate. Look...You're going to snap eventually. The anger, the bloodlust is gonna build up in you until you can't take it anymore, and then... So, the question is, do you want to spike a civilian or someone who has it coming? Like...Mindy Morris. Caring mother... Loving wife... Cheating trollop. After her husband, Lester, discovered Mindy's liaison amoureuse, heated words were exchanged. In the end, Mindy wanted a divorce... And 50% of everything. But Lester…”_

Lester wanted Mindy dead, and he was willing to sell his soul for it. Sam had talked Lester into it when he had been fishing for information from crossroads demons, Dean knew. Lester, and Barry, too. 

The part of Dean that was not yet full demon had a lot of reservations about this. He had never killed an innocent before, not on purpose. The demon part of Dean, however – the part that held sway over Ember – didn’t really care.

Ember seemed to have no reservations about it. Dean wondered at how well she had taken to her new demonic nature, given how hard she had fought against it before. He supposed it was one of the things that he used to care about, before they both “broke bad.” The thought made him smile. _Freedom._

Suddenly Dean noticed a silver car pulling up to the house. What the hell was Lester doing here? Was he _that_ much of an idiot, to show up while his wife was supposed to be killed? _Well, he _did_ sell his soul…_

“Hey! Hey!” Lester yelled as Dean slid into his car.

“Let me guess -- Lester?” Dean asked.

“I...Who are you?”

Dean dropped his disguise and allowed his normal demon eyes to show. “Who do you think?”

Lester reacted with surprise. “Whoa. Ohh!”

“Ohh,” Dean mocked. “What the hell are you doing here, man?”

“Well, my contact... Yeah, he, uh -- he told me that, uh, this was happening, so I just wanted to come down and make sure it gets done right.”

Truly, this man was an idiot. “Ah. 'Cause you're the expert, huh? Listen --and this is murder 101 --when you hire someone to kill your wife, you don't want to be around when the hit goes down. It's called an alibi.”

“Yeah, I know what an alibi is. I watch ‘Franklin & Bash’.”

_Seriously? _“Super. Listen, you sold your soul for this crap, so –…“

“It's not crap,” Lester replied, tearing up. “It's my life. And she flushed it down the toilet.”

Dean’s patience was waning. “Les... I'm gonna say something to you. I need you to really listen to me. You're a loser. Your lady in there -- she's a North Dakota 8. You're a 4 1/2, Max. Now, I don't blame her for stepping out -- especially if she found you were messing around first.”

“No. Oh, no. I-I wasn't... Uh -- How do you know?” Lester asked.

Now Dean’s patience was _definitely _waning. “Well, you just got that, uh, pervy, ‘I'd do anything to nail my secretary’ look.”

“Oh. No. T-that -- it's different when guys do it,” Lester replied.

Ember would have already stabbed this idiot. Dean wanted to get on with this. “Really?”

“Yeah. It's called ‘science,’” Lester said, as though this was obvious.

“Oh.” Dean could be at the bar getting laid right now. If Ember wasn’t available, there were other options. All demons, no commitments. That’s what they’d wanted.

“Men aren't built for monogamy... because of evolution. We're -- we're -- we're programmed, you know, to --to spread our seed.”

Dean punched him.

“Ohh! Ow!”

“Like I said -- loser, with a capital ‘L,’ rhymes with ‘you suck,’” said Dean.

“Yeah, well, you're a punk-ass demon! And you work for me now. So get in there and do your job, you freak!” Dean’s face turned icy. He could feel his anger affecting the Mark.

“And what are you gonna do? You gonna watch, huh? Is that what you like to do, Lester? Watch? Well, watch this.” And he sunk the blade into the man’s chest.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Dean! How did it go?” Crowley asked.

Dean had barely noticed Crowley; his eyes immediately strayed to Ember’s. Her face was impassive, as was usual these days, but she gave a slight smile that he recognized as being only for him.

“Fine. Fine. Uh... He's dead, and you're right --I-I feel amazing.” Ember smirked at him.

“He?”

“Uh, Lester.”

“The client? You killed the _client_?” Crowley seemed angry. Dean didn’t care. Ember’s smirk was growing wider.

“Does it matter? He was a douche. Now he's a dead douche.”

“Of course it matters! The deal was one dead wife for one soul. The wife's not dead, I don't get the soul. It's math.”

Ember slipped her hand into Dean’s and gave him a smile. He had the impression that she was particularly pleased that he had disobeyed Crowley, more than anything else. 

“Well... There you go,” said Dean.

“Hey! Don't turn your back on me!” yelled Crowley. 

Dean turned around and sent Crowley sprawling on the floor. Dean and Ember both laughed.

“What do you think you're doing?” Crowley asked, getting up.

“Oh, whatever I want,” Dean said.

Ember nodded at Dean. “We don’t have to do your bidding,” she said to Crowley. “Thanks for showing us the ropes. We’ll take it from here. We’re Team Free Will, you know.” She gave a twisted smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “We do what we want.”

“Really? Because I think you don't know what you want,” Crowley yelled at them. “Tell me, -- what are you? A demon? If so, why isn't Lester's wife dead? Why isn’t that child dead?” He looked at Ember in her turn. “Did you feel sorry for them? So maybe you're human. Except you have those pretty black peepers and you're working alongside me. Why don't you do us all a great big favor and PICK A BLOODY SIDE?!”

“Or what?” Dean snapped. “Hmm? Go ahead. Make a move. See how it ends. I ain't your friggin' bestie, and I ain't taking orders from you. When I need to kill, I'll call. Until then, stay out of my way.”

“Stop looking at me like you own me,” Ember added to Crowley. “You did us a favor, I’m not gonna lie. It’s about time I stretched my legs a little bit. But I’m not having sex with you, no matter what meat suit you crawl into.”

Dean smirked. “Why not, you fuck everything else,” said Crowley.

Ember wasn’t bothered. “I fuck who I want, when I want, how I want,” she said.

“Fine. It's over,” Crowley snapped. “What can I say? Crazy ones -- well, they're good for a fling, but they're not relationship material.”

“Are you done?” asked Dean. 

“We're done. You know what, Dean? It's not me. It's you.”

***Sam POV***

Sam was having a terrible week. He had been caught, tortured, escaped, and his brother was a demon. He was just leaving the motel when he heard the voice of the person he hated most in the world.

“Hello, Bullwinkle. You miss me?”

“So much,” Sam said sarcastically.

“You're here for Dean. I'm here to give him to you,” said Crowley.

Sam was confused. “_What?”_

“The little prat's bad for business. He's...uncontrollable. Must be the Mark. Anyway, Dean's your problem now -- again, forever.”

Sam was desperate. What was Crowley playing at? Was this another trick to get Sam off of their trail? “Then where is he?” Sam shouted.

“First, there's the small matter of my finder's fee.”

_“What?”_

“There’s a reason I picked Squirrel over you, you know? I swear, all that muscle must be crowding out your brain.” Crowley spoke very slow now. “I can give you. Squirrel. And Squirrel’s Half-Demon Pet. For the price of. The First Blade.”

“Why would you do that?” Sam said, immediately suspecting something.

“Do you know how _annoying_ your brother is?” Crowley explained, rolling his eyes. “I mean, sometimes he’s _almost_ worse than you, Moose. And he’s a _terrible_ singer, honestly.”

Sam gave Crowley an odd look, but he was desperate; he didn’t have the luxury of wondering whether or not this was a trap.

“Fine. You can have the First Blade, when I have Dean and Ember.”

“Excellent. Here’s the address.” And Crowley made to disappear.

“Wait!” Sam shouted.

Crowley shot Sam an annoyed look. “Yes, Moose?”

“What happened? Why are they demons?”

Crowley smirked. “What, Feathers can’t help you out with that one? Did all the lore in Heaven get smited during the Civil Wars?”

Sam narrowed his eyes. He wished Castiel was with him, but he was still on the way. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what I’m facing.”

“Fair point,” Crowley said, and took a lean against the car. “The Mark of Cain won’t let go of your brother,” he said simply. “When he died, it turned him into a Knight of Hell. Like Cain.”

Sam was shocked. “A _Knight _of – like Abaddon?”

“And equally as much of a pain in my buttocks, as it turned out,” said Crowley, and he made to leave again.

“What about Ember?” Sam asked.

Crowley gave Sam a superior smile, meant to show his pride that he had information Sam didn’t. “Demon Blood Bond,” he said.

Sam continued to narrow his eyes at Crowley, who was enjoying holding the information over Sam’s head. “A failsafe put in place by Lucifer,” he explained finally. “Love is powerful. I’ve no use for it myself, but weaker people…” Crowley shook his head, as though to brush off a bad memory. “It swayed Cain to stop killing. You knew that already.”

“And?” Sam said, sensing more to the story. 

“Rumor is that Lucifer had no power over the pure and the good. But he _did_ have power over demon-kind. He didn’t want to lose souls to _love_, like he ultimately did with Cain.” Crowley spoke, as if reciting from an old tome. _When two souls have been bonded, if both with demon blood, the demon blood shall rule.”_

Crowley seemed to consider a moment, and finally said, ”No point in keeping it a secret; Dean knows it all anyway, and we both know you know how to cure demons.” He paused a second for dramatic effect, then said, “They used it as a conversion method, for a long time. Make a human fall in love with you, add a little demon blood…” He shrugged, then smiled again, maliciously. “Why do you think your addiction to the blood was so strong? It was Lucifer’s plan for you and Ruby, I think, if she had survived.”

Sam was horrified. He shouldn’t have been – the Apocalypse had been years ago, and so much had happened since then, but it still took him several seconds to collect his thoughts.

“Don’t you want to know how to break the bond?” Crowley asked finally, feigning innocence.

“You’re not going to help, I suppose?” Sam snapped at him.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Crowley said.

“Fine,” Sam said between clenched teeth. “How do you break the bond?”

“You need both of their blood, and the member whose demonic nature initiated the Bond,” said Crowley. “In this case, that’d be Dean. Incantation is _Solvite haec animarum. Liberum ipsi manebimus._ I’ve taken the liberty of writing it down for you in case your Moosehead forgets. _And_, I went ahead and got the blood for you.” He pulled out two vials from his pocket. “Don’t say I never helped you, Moose.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“And Sam?” Crowley said.

“Yeah?”

“If I were you, I’d get them both at the same time,” Crowley said. “When one gets captured or hurt, the other one gets pretty lethal. Apparently it’s the only thing they care about anymore.”

_Well that’s definitely the truth,_ thought Sam.

***Sam POV***

August 10, Evening

As it turned out, Cole had been a blessing in disguise. The man had a grudge against Dean, who had apparently killed his father. He had captured and tortured Sam for Dean’s whereabouts, then held him for ransom. When that didn’t work, he had allowed Sam to escape, and then tracked him back to Dean.

As it turned out, Sam was able to use Cole as a distraction. He waited for just the right moment. Dean had beaten Cole to a pulp, without even breaking a sweat. It was a shame, and Sam felt horrible for the man. He knew he was a family man with a grudge – a human, and an innocent, despite the (relatively mild, to be honest) torture Sam had withstood at his hand. If it were any other situation, he would be coming to the man’s rescue. His brother would have to come first, however.

Sam thought for a minute that Dean was planning on beating Cole up and leaving, but Cole finally managed to score a slash to Dean’s face with a knife. He saw Dean’s eyes grow cold, and watched with horror as the cut on his face healed. Ember watched, too, from the sidelines, finally taking her eyes off of Sam for the first time since Dean had become engaged with Cole.

“You have no idea what you walked into here do you? None,” Dean said.

Sam could sense, but not see, Dean’s eyes turn black. “What are you?” Cole said with horror.

“I’m a demon,” Dean said. He held the First Blade to Cole’s throat.

“Do it!” Cole shouted. “You said if you saw me, you would kill me, so do it!”

Ember was captivated by the fight, and so was Dean. _This was his chance._

“I guess I changed my mind,” said Dean.

In a swift move, Sam threw holy water over both of them. With his good hand, he clasped the handcuffs around Dean’s wrist. With his bad hand, he ignored the pain in his shoulder and aimed at Ember – a Devil’s Trap bullet. His aim was true. 

Ember fell to the ground, holding her foot. “You shot me!” she screeched. She went invisible for a second, then immediately showed herself again. This happened two or three more times, and Sam realized that she couldn’t control her invisibility with the Devil’s Trap bullet. Dean dove for Sam, but missed, and fell uncomfortably on the ground. Ember was scrambling to get her shoe off. Sam took one quick look to make sure Cole was nowhere in sight (he had limped off to his car) before grabbing the vials out of his pocket. Ember grabbed at him with her hands, and he deftly maneuvered out of her way, paying more attention to the two vials, which were awkward with only his left hand working properly. Finally, he managed to remove both vials from his pocket. He put the open two ends together and emptied both vials together over Dean’s head. “_Solvite haec animarum. Liberum ipsi manebimus!” _he shouted.

The effect was almost immediate. Dean roared with anger, and made an admirable attempt to go after Sam once again, despite the demon manacles on his wrists. Sam ignored Ember long enough to wrestle an additional pair of handcuffs onto Dean, with one on one of his hands and one on the Impala. 

When he looked back at Ember, she was still on the ground, but it was as if her entire demeanor had changed. Her shoulders were hunched, and she was sobbing. In her hand was her left foot, which was bleeding despite the Devil’s Trap bullet which sat next to her. Sam thought she must’ve clawed it out, but the spell must have hit before she had healed herself fully. Rather than wrapping it in bandages, however, she was staring at it, as though she wasn’t sure quite what to think.

Sam looked at Dean again, but Dean simply glared at him from the back seat of the Impala. As quickly as he could, he grabbed the first aid supplies from the glove compartment and tossed them to her. Fortunately, Ember’s muscle memory kicked in at this point, and she put pressure on the wound.

“Ember?” Dean asked.

Ember looked at Sam, tears pouring down her face, and said nothing.

“I’m sorry I shot you,” he said.

Still she said nothing, but her sobs became even louder, and she covered her face.

“Ember, I… can you stand?” he tried. He held out his good hand to help her up.

She didn’t answer, but reached out for his hand. She grasped it, and he was startled at how frail she felt, and how little strength she seemed to have. Between the two of them, however, Sam managed to move her into the passenger seat of the Impala. “I’m going to get you to a hospital,” he said.

“No!” she said, suddenly meeting his eyes. Her eyes were wide with fear, and the look surprised him. It was a look he very rarely saw on her. “No,” she said again, calmer this time. “Don’t leave me, Sam.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Sam made it through the 11 hour journey home to the bunker with Dean and Ember thanks to caffeine and willpower. Once he had returned to the bunker, he had let Krissy take over care of Ember. “She’s in shock,” he told the teenager. “She’ll let you know what happened when she’s ready.”

“Who shot her?” Krissy asked.

“I did,” Sam said. There was no point lying. Krissy simply nodded, however, and set to work.

Sam waited until Krissy was busy with Ember before getting Dean out of the car and getting him squared away in the dungeon. Then finally, mercifully, Sam went to sleep.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The next morning, Sam was grabbing himself a quick breakfast when Ember came down the stairs. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he knew she had been crying. She wore an oversized robe, which Sam recognized as one of Dean’s. It dwarfed her thin frame, and she looked as though she was drowning in it. Her hair was long and stringy, and tangled.

“Ember,” he said, and hugged, her taking care of his sling.

She began to sob earnestly, and he led her to a chair. She tripped, and he realized that she had on the same bandages as yesterday, and was stumbling.

“Ember, those need to be changed,” he said.

“Sam, I-…” But she had dissolved into tears again.

“Ember,” he said softly, taking her in his arms again. At least she was speaking now, he thought. She hadn’t said a single word in the car on the way home, though she had cried the whole way. 

“But Sam, I-…”

“I know,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, now. And we’ll get Dean better, too.”

At Dean’s name, she seemed to collect herself somewhat. “You’re – you’re curing him today?” she asked.

“I’m going to try,” Sam said.

“It won’t work with normal blood,” Ember said. She was so quiet he thought she might have been talking to herself.

“What?” Sam said, surprised.

“He’s a Knight of Hell,” Ember said. “You’ll need blood purified by a priest.”

“How do you know that?” Sam asked.

“Stronger demon, stronger blood,” she said whispered, and broke down in sobs again.

“Thanks,” he said. 

When she had come to a break in her sobbing, he said, “Ember, you need to change your bandages.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I… I just woke up, and I wanted to… I try to be strong for the kids, but…” Her lip quivered, and she bit down on it. “Mom took the red-eye,” she said, whispering again when her tears were under control. “She’ll be here in an hour. I’ll be okay.”

Sam looked at Ember again. Her lip was quivering once more, and silent tears ran down her cheeks. There wasn’t much he could do, and he knew it. He put his arm around her and held her, and for now, that was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very proud of this chapter. There's a lot packed in here, but I think it reads well, finally.


	43. Soul Survivor

***Sam POV***

August 12, Afternoon

Early that afternoon, Sam returned with blood blessed by a priest. This time, Ember greeted him at the door. Sam sighed with relief, noting that she looked a lot better. She was still wearing lounge pants and a tank top, but her hair was clean, and her foot was in new bandages. Her face was dry, and for once her eyes weren’t red and puffy.

“Sorry about this morning,” she told him. He could tell she was trying to sound more chipper than she actually felt.

“Why are you sorry?” Sam asked. “I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through this past month.”

Ember looked as though she might cry again, but she bit her lip and steeled herself. “I’m lucky,” she said. “That’s what I… I wanted to thank you. For saving me. And Dean, too. The Blood Bond… I had no idea….”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Sam told her.

“I’m not,” she admitted. “But… I will be. Krissy told me… you’ve kept up on everything. The three of you. The bills, and everything, and… and thank God the adoptions were finalized last March… And it’s just my job, that I can’t…” she bit her lip again to keep from sobbing. “Anyway, I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Sam told her simply. “Just feel better.”

Ember looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. She seemed to be steeling herself to ask something. Finally she said, “Sam, if you need any help with the curing tomorrow, I’ll-…”

“No,” Sam said. “No, it’s my brother. You’ve… I’m just glad you’re better, Ember. Now it’s just him.”

“No, really, I’ll-…”

“Ember,” Sam said sharply. “I’m doing this on my own.”

Ember’s face shown with relief. “Thank you, Sam,” she whispered.

***Castiel POV***

August 12, Afternoon

Hannah had feelings for him. He knew that, now. Perhaps he had spent _too_ much time convincing her that it was okay to be human. He only had feelings for Ember, and that had only ever gotten him in trouble, but soon it wouldn’t matter anyway.

Adina, the rogue angel, had held a knife to Hannah’s throat. But he was too weak, too weak to help her, and he had been thrown through a window. He could feel the matted blood on his face, even though angels weren’t supposed to bleed. They weren’t supposed to sleep, either, and he had done that, too. And all he wanted was to help Sam, and to see Ember one last time…

And then Crowley was standing over him. Crowley had a bottle full of grace. Castiel pushed it away. _Did he kill Hannah, or Adina?_ But he was so weak…

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Crowley. “Yes, it’s hers, but she was killing your girlfriend. Your hands are clean. As much as it pains me to say this … You’re useless to me dead.”

_Girlfriend… Ember?_ Crowley had put the grace in Castiel’s mouth, and against his will, he felt himself healing. He stood up, his awareness back and his senses on edge with the presence of first Adina, then Crowley.

“You owe me,” Crowley said.

“Why did you help me?” Castiel demanded, annoyed.

“Purely business,” said the demon. “Since you’re five miles away from the Winchester’s Clubhouse, I can only surmise that you’re headed there. And that Dean has become a handful. Having him as a demon has caused me nothing but grief. Fix the problem.”

***Sam POV***

August 12, Late Afternoon

Sam sat looking at the pictures Dean kept in his room. He knew, intellectually, that his brother was saying horrible things to him because he was a demon, a demon who didn’t want to be cured. Still, it didn’t make the things Dean had said any easier to hear. “_You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just … tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire… My mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. Your very existence sucked the life out of my life!”_

“It’s not going very well, is it?” said Ember from the doorway, making Sam jump. She was holding a cup of hot chocolate. She was dressed the same as earlier, but she was also back in Dean’s bathrobe again.

“No,” Sam said. “No, it’s… not. I think I’m killing him.”

Ember flinched. “Maybe you are. I thought about that,” she admitted softly. She was silent for another minute. “That’s why I was really glad you’re doing it. I just… right now… I can’t see him like that. Not anymore.” She ducked her head, and Sam guessed that she was crying again. “I came here to his room, and I…”

“I know this isn’t the right time to tell you this,” Sam said, a thought occurring to him suddenly. “But Cas is on his way.”

Ember hardly reacted. “Good,” she whispered. “Good.”

Sam opened his mouth to tell her that Castiel was dying – that it was bad, and that he wasn’t much better off than Dean. Somehow, though, he found that he couldn’t bear to see her cry any harder than she already was.

***Ember POV***

August 12, Evening

Ember couldn’t remember ever being more miserable than she was after spending six weeks as a demon. The guilt, and the depression, were overwhelming. She thought several times about dying, during that first day, but dismissed the thought, mostly because of her children. They gave her life, that first day. They gave her motivation, and finally she mustered the energy to shower and force food down her throat. Her mother’s arrival was helpful, too. By the end of the day, Ember had etched out a semi-functional plan for moving forward.

The final adoption, Krissy’s, had been finalized the previous March, which had thankfully decreased the amount of attention she was receiving from the state. This was crucial, as it had meant that Sam, Castiel, and the children were able to keep Ember’s absence in their life a secret for six weeks in hopes that she would come back. She was also fortunate that all of her children understood the life of a hunter. Rather than blaming her and resenting her for her absence, they were simply glad to have her back. Despite this, Ember knew there was still major damage done to her relationship with her children, and she knew she would spend the next several months working to smooth things over again.

Sam and Castiel had done a great job of taking over with the children during Ember’s six-week hiatus, but the truth was that it couldn’t continue. Thankfully, the children hadn’t been able to get up to much trouble, aside from living on Funyons and getting their days and nights mixed up. Ember didn’t want to imagine what she would’ve come home to if she had “broke bad” during the school year, however.

After some deliberation, Ember and the rest of her children had decided to take a week to get things figured out, then head back to their old house in Conway Springs now that it was safe again. Krissy explained that Castiel was living in the house currently, which Ember thought odd. Why wasn’t he living in the bunker, with Sam and Dean? Krissy had interrupted then, stating that it was something Castiel needed to tell Ember himself.

Ember had other things to worry about, however. Getting a job was going to be a problem. Ember needed money, fast. She was proud of the fact that she hadn’t used her invisibility to steal since the Apocalypse, but she supposed this paled in comparison to the things she had done while she had been a demon. Either way, she would have to pull a hit on an ATM sometime in the next week if she wanted to pay for the basics she had been abandoning, such as her phone, car insurance, and property taxes, much less back-to-school expenses for the children. Aidan, for example, had grown nearly four inches and two shoe sizes over the summer, and had simply cut the toes out of his shoes in protest.

There was a lot to think about, and a lot of planning to do. Ember hadn’t even begun to sift through her memories of her time as a demon, because every time she did, she simply burst into tears again. Ember was curled up on Dean’s bed trying (but failing) to take a nap when she heard clattering. Without warning, Sam came into her room. “Dean got free,” he said. “Run.”

Suddenly, though, she found herself in another room. _How did I get here?_ But she didn’t have time to wonder. Dean looked up at her in shock. He had just taken a hammer from the drawer. “What are you doing?” she asked.

Dean gave her a smile that Ember recognized immediately. _Still demon._ “Sam!” she screamed. With both hands, she channeled her force powers, and Dean was pinned immediately to the wall, a look of shock etched on his face.

Sam came rushing into the room, followed closely by Castiel. Castiel stood looking at Ember, shocked, his face unreadable. Sam, however, wasted no time in drawing a pair of handcuffs (normal handcuffs this time) from his pocket and forcing them around Dean’s arms.

After that, the three of them rushed Dean back to the dungeon to administer the final dose of blood. Immediately after the serum entered his body, however, Dean’s head lolled onto his shoulders – he had passed out.

“What the hell are we doing to him, Cas?” Sam asked. “I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.”

“Well… I see his point,” Castiel said. “You know, only humans can feel real joy, but … also such profound pain. This is easier.”

Ember looked at Castiel then, who was staring at her, blue eyes boring into brown. _Only humans can feel real joy_… Ember knew Castiel’s feelings were not as profound when he was an angel, but she also knew that these words weren’t true. He had told her so himself, so long ago…

Her time with Castiel seemed like a lifetime ago. And yet, with him here in front of her, all she wanted to do was curl up in his arms and never wake up.

Ember’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft groan from Dean. As the three watched, the black in Dean’s eyes appeared to dissipate. Castiel took his angel blade in hand, watching Dean wearily. Sam unscrewed the flask in his hand, ready to douse Dean in holy water. Dean looked around, uncertain, and groaned. “You look worried, fellas.”

Sam threw the holy water on Dean, who didn’t react except to give Sam an annoyed look. Sam smiled. “Welcome back, Dean.”

Ember could see it in Dean’s eyes, when it hit: the guilt. The remorse, over everything that had happened, and with it, the weight of the world. The look he gave her then was more desperate than she could have imagined, but it mirrored what she was feeling inside. _I’m so, so sorry. What have I done?_

Ember dropped her gaze, and left again, before she burst into tears.

***Castiel POV***

August 12, Late Night

Castiel left Sam to deal with Dean, and set out to talk to Ember. It took awhile to find her, but finally he did, curled up in her car in the giant garage. He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms, where he held her. She did not protest, but simply let out a hiccup. She smelled exactly like he remembered, and for a second, he almost doubted his decision; almost.

It was several minutes before either of them spoke. Finally, Ember said, “I heard you were living at the house.”

“I was dying,” Castiel said. “I was very close to death. I should’ve been dead by now. There was a… an incident, though. Crowley managed to feed me another stolen grace.”

Castiel fully expected Ember to say something like, “Well, next time I see Crowley, I’ll only chop off _one _of his limbs.” Instead, she simply let out a dry sob when she heard his name.

“So that’s what Krissy didn’t tell me,” she said finally. “How… how long do you have?” She finally met his eyes, and Castiel could see a change in them. Ember had aged much in the last day alone, he thought. He pulled her closer in a hug. “Maybe a year, at best, I suppose,” he said. 

Ember nodded, lowering her head again so that she didn’t have to meet his eyes. He stroked her hair. “I wish I could take the pain away,” he said.

Ember looked up at him again, hopefully. “Is it – do you know if…” she trailed off. “I’m not saying I _want_ to… I’d have to think about it. But… could you remove my memories?” He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off hurriedly. “I mean, last time, when Dean and I broke up, I didn’t _want_ them removed, and you were trying to do it in a hurry, for him, but maybe if-…”

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Your brain isn’t like a human’s. It’s more… resistant.” She nodded, looking downward.

“I could look… I could see if I could help, though,” he added, hopefully. He held two fingers up to her head in a question.

She looked at him, her gaze watery, and nodded.

Castiel had searched through Ember’s mind on a few occasions, and sent her pictures and images from his mind as well. They hadn’t done this since they had broken up, however. He was surprised to find Ember’s mind drastically different from the last time.

He had known that she would be shaken up from her experience as a demon, but he was surprised at the disorganization of her thoughts, the depth of her depression, and the damage to her soul. It was as though someone had taken a lovely garden, pulled up all of the flowers and pretty shrubbery, and tossed it everywhere. The few times he had been inside her mind before, he had taught her how to show him only what she wanted him to see. Now, however, the entirety of her mind, and the damage to it, was laid bare to him.

He saw how she saw him: an angel, far above her, now that she had gone demon. He would always be out of reach, and she didn’t deserve him, and he would never love her again, she thought. But she loved him fiercely, with every part of her being, more than he could have imagined. His heart gave a guilty squeeze, but there was nothing that could be done about it – his decision was final. 

He witnessed a few of the worst things she had done as a demon. There were a lot of men, he noticed, and some torture, and -… realizing where Castiel was searching, Ember hastily constructed a shoddily-built mental wall, and Castiel drew back. He tried not to think about what he had seen, because it made his stomach boil with jealousy and hatred.

Castiel turned a corner in Ember’s mind, and there he witnessed the other feeling (aside from guilt) which dominated most of her feelings right now – confusion. Confusion about their break-up, confusion about her love for him, and, most of all, confusion about her demon powers, and about where to go next.

Finally, he removed his fingers from her head, and she collapsed into him again, hiccupping with sobs. “I’m the one who should be sorry,” he said honestly. “I never properly explained… look at me.”

Slowly, Ember wiped the tears from her eyes, and pulled back from him, looking at him. “We didn’t break up because you don’t deserve me. I’ve caused far more death than you, far more destruction. I’ve…” But he was at a loss for words. How could she _possibly_ think she didn’t deserve him, even now? As he thought this, unbidden to his mind came his words from so many years ago: “_Now I understand these feelings I’ve always had for you. For a moment I was scared I was actually attracted to a _demon!”

He would have to show her, then. Carefully, he put two fingers to her head. He showed her his love for her, beyond anything he thought he could ever feel, even as an angel. Then he showed her his sense of duty. He showed her his murder of the angels in Heaven, how desperate he was that another angel not die so that he could have their grace, and how desperate _he_ was to be worthy of _her._

“It was never meant to be,” he told her softly after removing her hand. “I’m an _angel_. You can’t keep me alive. The months we had together were the best months of my existence. But it couldn’t continue.” Castiel saw weary acceptance creep slowly into Ember’s face, and she nodded, once.

“As far as your memories,” Castiel told her, “I can’t do anything about those. Your mind is too resistant. No angel is that powerful, even the archangels. To delete or manipulate your memories would destroy you.”

Ember nodded, resolutely. “I can, however, answer some of your questions.”

Ember looked up hopefully. A single tear slid down her cheek, but other than that she had stopped crying.

“I understand about the Demon Blood Bond,” Castiel said. “From what Crowley told Sam, you should be free of it, no matter what happens with the Mark of Cain. You’re your own person, now.” He saw the slightest bit of relief cross Ember’s face.

“Now I’m going to ask you questions you don’t want to answer, but I need to know, in order to answer the questions you do want answered,” said Castiel.

Ember looked at him, showing him she understood exactly what he meant. She had steeled herself. “What were the worst things you did, while you were a demon?” Castiel asked. 

Ember’s face contorted, and Castiel almost wished he hadn’t asked. He had to ask, though, so that he could get the information to give her the answers she needed. It was several seconds before she spoke. Finally, she said softly, “I think I might have killed… at least once. I… I’m not sure. He might’ve bled out. I caught him at a playground, going for some kids, and… I just left him there.” She let out a sob. “And… a lot of… sex. And… speeding. There was a family… in a car, and I tried to heal - but I think the mother might’ve been pregnant…” Castiel had seen this last bit in her mind, before she had put up a wall. He knew it was this that weighed on her most heavily.

Castiel nodded. He was appalled, but at the same time, it could have been much worse. Mostly, his stomach twisted with horrible jealousy. “Your place in Heaven is secure,” he said, ignoring the hollow feeling in his stomach. “You haven’t done anything to jeopardize that.”

“It shouldn’t be,” she said derisively.

“_But it is,_” Castiel insisted. “Ember, how many demons did you exorcise from civilians during the year of the Apocalypse _alone?” _Ember looked at him, surprised. “The life you, and Dean, and Sam, and even I live comes with risks. You take the risks, and you hope at the end of the day that the good outweighs the bad.”

Ember looked at him curiously. “You said that once,” he offered, and was relieved to see her smile, if only slightly. “You had a bad day,” he said, stroking her hair. “Get busy making tomorrow better.”

Ember nodded, leaning into him again. “About your powers,” Castiel added, and Ember once more lifted off of him to look at him curiously. “The farther you go toward the dark side, the more powers you’ll retain,” he said.

Ember looked at him with fear. “Does that mean I-…”

“No,” Castiel said. “You haven’t gone ‘dark side.’ Just… farther in that direction. You’ll retain some of the powers you had while you were a demon, but it’s just like before – you can use them without risking going ‘dark side’, as long as you don’t use them for ill.”

She swallowed, appearing to accept this. “Cas, I… I think I can teleport now.”

“Sam said something about that,” Castiel nodded.

Ember looked reflective. “It _will_ make things easier,” she added.

“See?” he said. “Not all bad.”

Ember looked at him, finally quirking a small smile. He pulled her closer again, and they sat that way, in her car, for a very long time.

***Ember POV***

August 13, Evening

Ember had fallen asleep in Castiel’s arms, and when she’d awoken, he had been gone. She had expected this, however. Their breakup still left a gaping hole in her heart, but it paled in comparison to the pain she felt now after her time as a demon. Ultimately, Ember decided, their conversation in the car would have to serve as closure to whatever they had had over the past year.

Castiel had also answered a lot of the questions that had seemed to weigh her down in the few days since she had returned to normal. She was glad to know that her place in Heaven was secured, as much as she still felt she didn’t deserve it. She was that much more motivated, now, to earn her way back into her own good graces, much less everyone else’s. 

The fact that she could now teleport, and move and control humans with her force powers again, was also a definite plus. Her teleportation abilities weren’t infinite, she learned quickly. She couldn’t teleport over distances longer than about two hours, for one. This meant that when teleporting from the bunker to her home in Conway Springs, for example, she had to teleport someplace around the halfway mark, then wait about a half hour on her powers to recharge. 

She also needed some sort of tether to know where to teleport to and from. If she wanted to teleport to a place she had never been before, Dean and Sam needed to have something belonging to her on their person, as well as in various places along the way if they had driven farther than two hours away from Ember. Still, her new powers of teleportation cut down travel time exponentially. 

More importantly, this new power meant that she didn’t have to live in fear to the extent that she did before, both for herself and for her children. It would make it easier to get back on her feet, as well. She would trade it all back in an instant for the mother with the baby in the car, or even for the child molester. Still, she supposed, if this was the way things were going to be, at least things were going to be more convenient.

There was one last major loose end to figure out, however.

At the end of another long day of phone calls, planning, and sorting out bills and schools and jobs, Ember finally approached Dean’s room. It was the first time she had been in there since she had gone in to take a nap when she thought he might die from the conversion.

She was prepared for several different reactions from Dean. What she was not prepared to find was him crying. He was sitting on his bed, his headphones on, tears streaming down his cheeks. To be fair, she had interrupted him in a private moment. She hadn’t bothered to knock, and had simply used her new-found skill of teleporting.

Dean’s startle response kicked in at that moment and he opened his eyes in a panic, sensing someone in the room. When he saw that it was Ember, however, the fight left him, and he simply went limp, looking at her like a deer in headlights.

***Dean POV***

August 13, Evening

Dean had thought that Ember would be long gone by now. He had almost hoped she would. He hoped he would never see her again. He hoped she got back together with Castiel, and the two of them had little nephilim babies.

That was what he deserved. He had broken her. The one good, shining thing that he had somehow still managed to keep in his life, even after _two_ break-ups, and he’d broken her. Why she was looking down at him with a soft smile, he would never understand. She sat down on his bed and pulled him to her. He fought against her touch, because he didn’t feel like he deserved it, as though it might break both of them, after everything. Just as she let him go, however, he suddenly felt that he desperately needed her beside him, and hurriedly scooted closer again.

He waited on her to speak, but she didn’t, and so he finally felt compelled to. “Ember, I-…”

“It’s okay, Dean.”

“No!” He said insistently. “No, it’s not. It’s _not_.” He got up off the bed, then, shunning her touch once more. “_All_ I do is hurt you. After all this, I hurt you _again_. That’s why I tried to have Castiel remove your memories, which I never should’ve done, and I’m _sorry_, and I’ve never said it, not properly. And-…”

“Dean-…”

“And then Bobby,” Dean continued, “And then Gadreel, and I couldn’t lose Sammy, and you’re right, about _everything_, you’re _always _right about everything, and I make fun, and I joke, and I lose control, and I’m impulsive, and I never tell you what’s really going on with me. And I think I do that because I’m afraid that if you realize how ridiculously _fucked up_ I am that you’ll leave and never come back.”

“Dean, I-…”

“And I should’ve listened to you, and Sammy, and _everyone_ about the stupid First Blade, and I don’t ever want to see that damn thing again. But I’ve still got the Mark, and everything, _everything_ pales in comparison to the fact that I don’t know when I’m gonna go - go – go _demon _again, and lose everything, and lose… _myself.”_

At the last few words, Ember’s previously soft smile turned into a hard look. She was not angry, he could tell, but merely… calculating. Finally, she sighed, and reached out for his hand to pull him back onto the bed. “Welcome to _my _life,” she said.

In that moment, he knew, more than ever before, that he loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't typically write hurt/comfort, because I typically find it tedious, but I kind of had to in this situation and I hope I got it right. Also I love the idea of mind-melding. I love Ember and Castiel's relationship, because it's so complicated, and there's so much to play with.


	44. Fanfiction

***Dean POV***

September 16, Afternoon

Somehow, by some miracle, Dean and Ember were back together. He wasn’t entirely sure which cosmic diety to send his gift basket to for that one, though he was pretty sure it was Castiel. He had a good idea that his best friend had passed on the opportunity to be with her again, mostly due to his impending death. 

Dean knew the angel had been her first choice, even before her time as a demon. He also knew, instinctively, that she still loved Castiel, probably more than she loved him. He could see it in the way that her head jerked up whenever the angel was mentioned, and in the way she stared into space for minutes at a time. 

If it had been any girl but Ember, Dean would have talked Castiel into being with her anyway. The fact was, however, that the girl in question _was_ Ember, and Dean was more than happy to pick up where Castiel left off. The rest, he hoped, would come with time, and the angel was keeping his distance. 

Their life was quiet, with both of them still reeling from the demon experience, and finding solace in each other. Josephine, Ember’s oldest, was at away college, and her other three children attended high school once more. They were back living in their old house in Conway Springs. Dean visited at least once a week, often with Sam in tow, and Ember visited almost every weekend with one or more of the children.

There were difficult elements to this life he had chosen, with Ember. He was making a big effort to communicate, to see her as often as he could, and to bond with her children. He liked the three children very much, and they seemed to like him as well, but he knew they were all wary of his Mark of Cain, and of his budding relationship with Ember. Most of all, he was making a significant effort to drink less than he had since he got out of Purgatory.

Ember seemed happy overall – though he suspected she still thought often of Castiel, she never openly discussed it. Dean did know, however, that she was worried about her job, and about money. He knew she hated stealing from ATMs to provide, and he knew she was only working part-time. Overall, there was a sort of quiet acceptance and synchronicity to this relationship that Dean hadn’t felt since they had settled down after the Apocalypse.

Still, Dean knew that hunting wouldn’t be off the table forever. Finally, a month after being cured, he decided to bring up the topic of a new case. He waited until he was together with Ember and Sam, in front of a lake, relaxing and drinking beers. All three had sunglasses, and Ember had sat her lawn chair close to his, her knees curled up to her chin and her hair blowing in the wind. He started the conversation off slowly. “See that thing in the paper this morning?”

Sam sighed, and he could see his brother shoot a wary look at Ember. “Maybe it was an animal kill,” he said.

“It was three kills, and it was in the same town, all within the last month,” he replied.

Ember looked at the two brothers curiously, a frown lining her face.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam said. “We should call some guys. Have them fix it.”

“Good,” said Dean. “Smart.”

Ember looked at Dean, a small smile playing on her face.

“Done,” said Sam.

“Or,” said Dean, “We could be in and out. It’s a milk run.”

Ember smiled at this, and Dean was surprised. She _wanted _to go hunting?

“Right,” said Sam, “Because that happens _never.”_

Dean watched Ember frown again, and pushed the subject farther than he had at first intended. “Look, Sam, what we’re doing here, it’s good, okay? All of us, hanging out… but I need to work… I need this.”

Sam and Ember were both giving him wary looks now.

“If things go sideways,” Sam said, “I mean, like, an _inch_… you gotta give me the heads up.”

“Done,” Dean said. “You got my word.” And he walked away, taking the lawn chair with him.

“What do you think about this?” he heard Sam asking Ember as Dean walked away.

“I can’t stay dormant any longer either,” Ember said. “It’s… I have to do good again. You know? After all the bad we did…”

Dean smiled to himself. He felt the same way.

***Ember POV***

September 19, Night

It hadn’t been a milk run. At first, the Winchesters and Ember had thought that the werewolf responsible for the murders had been Kate, a werewolf that the brothers had interacted with before. Kate had been clean, and had never eaten a human heart before, so they had let her go.

As it turned out, the culprit had been Kate’s sister Tasha. Kate had turned her younger sister when Tasha had been comatose from a nearly fatal car accident. Tasha hadn’t been willing to stay clean of human hearts like Kate had been, however. In fact, she had turned two older teenage boys, and created her own “pack.”

Ember and the brothers had easily gotten the jump on the two teenage boys and killed them, thanks to Ember’s invisibility and force powers. Sam and Dean had insisted on killing Tasha, but Ember had been sympathetic to another idea. She could sense from Kate that Kate was willing to take responsibility for her sister. If this meant using silver to lock her in a basement with only animal hearts until she could be trusted, this is what had to be done. Ember knew all too well the importance of hanging on to family.

“Just hear me out, okay?” Ember insisted to Dean. “They’ve got this cabin. We’ve got manacles. I can check on them every so often, make sure she’s still-...”

“That’s a ridiculous idea,” Dean was saying. “You don’t have time to-…”

“Please, it’s my sister, I’ll do whatever I have to do!” said Kate.

“That’s the choice?!” yelled Tasha suddenly, from where she was handcuffed with one hand to the bed. “Get killed, or stay chained in this damn house and eat _chickens_ for the rest of my life?!?!”

“Tasha, please, you can control it, and we’ll be _together_, it won’t be that-…” said Kate.

“Fuck _that!”_ Tasha yelled. “I’m tired of getting bossed around! By Mom and Dad, by friends and boyfriends… by _you!” _And without warning, she had grabbed the knife out of Dean’s hand and plunged it into her own heart.

“We failed that girl,” Ember said to Dean later in the car.

“Tasha?” he said with derision. “Ember, you offered her more than any sane-…”

_“Not_ Tasha,” Ember said, rolling her eyes. “Kate.”

“How do you figure?” Dean asked.

“I mean, the kids, and the adults, and even the monsters, that we save, it’s not like we leave them with an instruction manual, is it? I mean, even the ones that go on to lead _normal _lives… have years of therapy, don’t they? And what therapist is going to actually listen to them? I mean, _normal _therapists don’t know anything about demons… And speaking of demons, how many demon-possessed humans have we let walk away, with _no _answers, and _no _resources. It’s lucky Kate did as well as she did, honestly. We tell these people, ‘Don’t break bad,’ but it’s not like they have _any_ support half the time, and-…”

Ember drifted off, realizing that Sam and Dean were both looking at her with shock.

“So you do it, then,” said Dean.

“Do _what?” _Ember asked.

“Ember, that would be _perfect_,” said Sam in a low voice.

“What?” Ember asked. “Offering… therapy services for… _survivors?”_

Sam and Dean looked at her carefully. “Yeah,” they both said at once, as though it were obvious.

So that was exactly what Ember did.

***Ember POV*** 

October 21, Afternoon

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Ember was shocked at how quickly her new business took off. In all honesty, Ember had gotten lucky. One of her first clients was a computer hacker, who knew some algorithms for finding clients online who had had supernatural experiences. By the middle of October, Ember was so busy with her new business that she had had to put in her two weeks’ notice with the one client she saw for her other job.

The best part about this newer business was that it could all be done online and over the phone. Ember saw about 6-8 clients per day, all for $25 a session up front. She didn’t worry about insurance, seeing as the supernatural wasn’t supposed to exist in the first place. She was free to come and go between Conway Springs and the bunker whenever she pleased, which was even easier with her teleportation abilities. She was making more money than she’d ever made at her other jobs, and was much happier as well.

Ember occasionally went hunting with the brothers as well, when she heard about a case that she really wanted to take. Her job gave her the flexibility to do so, for the most part, which she loved. The first case she accompanied the brothers on since the werewolf case was one about a missing drama teacher in Flint, Michigan.

When Ember teleported to Maine to meet the brothers, however, she was accompanied by the strangest sight.

“You idgits!” one girl was shouting. “You idgits! _You_ are _idgits.” _She was dressed in a beard and flannel, and reminded Ember quite a bit of Bobby.

Ember’s first thought was that perhaps they were doing a play about the “Supernatural” books, written by “Carver Edlund.” She knew Chuck had published up through the Apocalypse before his disappearance. She had read everything he had published, being that much of it included her. Still, to have a play about Supernatural performed at a drama school would be very coincidental.

The next thing Ember saw was a girl dressed as an angel. “Hey, ass-butt ! Hey ! Ass-butt!” 

Coincidental it was, then.

Suddenly, Ember heard notes on a piano; a musical number was beginning.

_John and Mary, husband and wife_

_Bringing home a brand new life_

_His name is Sammy,_

_I'm big brother, Dean._

_The perfect family, or so it seems._

_The demon's visits had begun_

_He believed Sam was the chosen one_

_It burned my mother,_

_And it cursed my brother_

_Leaving us in tears_

_On the road so far,_

_Yeah, the road so far!_

_We are in Dad's car-_

“Cut!” yelled a younger girl, who was obviously the student director.

Ember turned to Sam and Dean with a wide grin. She took in their faces, which were a mixture of shock and horror. Her grin got wider. “This is the _best_ day of my _life!” _she exclaimed.

Eventually, the student director approached them. “Hi! Oh my gosh... Are you guys from the publisher? I'm Marie, writer slash director. This is Maeve, my stage manager, and I was just, uh, dir-…”

Sam had flashed his FBI badge, and Marie had stopped her monologue. Dean had begun to flash his badge as well, but Sam had stopped him. Ember followed Sam’s eyes, and realized that he was watching the two actresses who played Dean and Sam onstage. They were also both flashing FBI badges.

“I'm special agent Smith,” said Sam. “This is my partner, special agent -…”

“Smith,” Dean said. “And our, uh, Supervisor, Special Agent-…”

“Carver,” Ember finished, remembering her lines at the last second. “Nice to meet you.”

“We’re here to look into the disappearance-…”

“There is no singing in Supernatural!” said Dean, cutting off his brother. Sam gave an embarrassed look to the young girls, who simply looked confused.

“Well, this is Marie's interpretation...,” said the Stage Manager, Maeve.

“Hah!” said Dean. “Well... I mean, if there was singing, you know... And that's a big _if_… If there was singing, it would be classic rock. Not this Andrew Floyd Webber crap-…”

“Andrew _Lloyd_ Webber,” Sam and Ember both whispered at the same time.

“Well,” said Marie, “You know, we do sing a cover of Carry On Wayward Son, in the second act.”

“Oh!” said Dean.

“Really?” asked Sam.

“It’s a classic!” said Dean and Marie together. Ember giggled.

“Right,” said Sam. “Anyways. We're here to talk about the disappearance of Ms. Chandler. Any chance you two saw her, before she vanished?”

And off they went. Sam decided to go with Maeve and check for EMF around the stage, while Ember and Dean accompanied Marie to look backstage for cursed objects and gain more information about the teacher who had disappeared. During their tour, Ember, Dean, and Marie passed the actresses who played Sam and Dean, rehearsing a scene in front of the Impala. Ember noticed that the two girls were standing awfully close to each other. 

She knew Dean had noticed it, too. “What are they doing?” he asked Marie.

“Oh!” she said. “They’re rehearsing the B.M. scene.”

“The bowel movement scene?” Dean asked.

“No!” she exclaimed. “The boy melodrama scene!” Dean looked confused, which made Ember giggle. This whole situation was so surreal, and it got more hysterical by the minute.

“I am never going to let you live this down,” Ember whispered at Dean. “This is _awesome!”_

“This is the scene where the boys get together, and they're-they're driving, or leaning against Baby. Drinking a beer, sharing their feelings. The two of them. Alone. But together. Bonded. United. The power of the brotherly-…”

“Why are they standing so close together?” asked Dean.

“Hum... Reasons,” said Marie mysteriously.

“You know they’re brothers, right?” asked Dean.

“Well, duh!” answered Marie. “But... Subtext.”

“Why don't you take some substeps back there, ladies?” yelled Dean at the two actresses, and Ember had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“You know, I read those stories when I was younger, and a _little_ bit of the fanfiction too,” Ember said when she finally had control of her laughter. “And I was never able to get on board with Wincest.” 

_“Wincest?”_ said Dean, his voice sounding slightly higher than usual.

“Fair enough,” said Marie. “Destiel is better anyway. You’ve read “Supernatural?”

“What’s _Destiel?”_ asked Dean, but both girls ignored him.

“Mmm,” said Ember, determined to nettle Dean further, simply for the fun of it. “I _really_ liked the character of Ember in the later online books.”

“I go back and forth about Ember,” confessed Marie. “I really like the character, but I don’t think she’d stay with Dean. I think she might fit better with Castiel. I’m pretty sure the author was alluding to that.”

Ember looked at the floor, determinedly avoiding Dean’s probing eyes.

Finally, the three of them reached Mrs. Chandler’s office. Dean looked around the room at the empty bottles, then stumbled on a robot’s head. “Is this hers?” Dean asked.

“No!” said Marie. “That's a prop from Act Two! I've been looking for that, actually.”

“There's no space in Supernatural,” Dean pointed out.

Ember raised her hand to point out their UFO abduction, though that was technically fairies, but thought better of it at the last second.

“Well, not canonically, no,” said Marie. “But this is transformative fiction.”

Dean smirked. “You mean fan fiction.”

“Call it whatever you like, ok?” said Marie. “It's inspired by Carver Edlund's books. With a few embellishments. But, as you know, Chuck stopped writing after Swan Song. I just- I couldn't leave it the way that it was! I mean, Dean not hunting anymore, living with Ember?! Sam, somehow back from Hell, but not with Dean?! So, I wrote my own ending.”

“You wrote your own ending,” Dean clarified. “With spaceships?”

“And robots. And some ninjas,” Marie said. “And then, Dean becomes a woman.” At that, Ember spit out a drink of water she had just taken from a water filter. Dean didn’t look at her, but she could see him grinding his teeth. Marie must have seen it to, because she said, “It's just for a few scenes!”

“That’s totally believable,” Ember commented, and Dean shot her a look of spite.

Finally, they walked back to the main auditorium. “Alright, Shakespeare,” Dean said. “You know that I can actually tell you what really happened with the-the Sam and Dean?” 

Marie and Ember looked at him curiously. “A friend of mine hooked me up with the, uh, unpublished unpublished books,” he said by way of explanation. “So, Sam came back from Hell. But without a soul. Then, Cas brought in a bunch of Leviathans from Purgatory. They lost Bobby. And then, Cas and Dean got stuck in Purgatory. Sam hit a dog. They met a prophet named Kevin. They lost him too. Then Sam endured a series of trials, in an attempt to close the gates of Hell, which nearly cost him his life. Then Dean? Dean became a demon. Knight of Hell, actually.”

“And Ember broke up with Dean, just like you said,” filled in Ember. “Then she got back together with him, and they broke up again. She had the children she always wanted. They were orphaned by vampires. And, like you said, Ember got together with Cas, but that didn’t work out. And, now she’s back with Dean.”

Dean and Ember looked at Marie expectantly. “Wow,” she said.

“Yep,” said Dean.

“That is some of the worst fan fiction that I've ever heard!” Marie exclaimed, laughing. “I mean, seriously, I don't know where your friend found this garbage! I am not saying that ours is a masterpiece, or anything, but geez! Ha! I'll have to send you some fic links later.”

Dean and Ember’s attention had been caught by something else, however. “What are they doing?” asked Dean. He was pointing at the actresses for Dean and Castiel, who were kissing near the front of the auditorium.

“Kids these days, call it hugging,” Marie said casually.

“Is that in the show?” Dean said, as Ember once more held back a snigger.

“Oh, no,” said Marie. “Siobhan and Kristen are a couple in real life. Although, we do explore the nature of Destiel in act two.”

“Sorry, what?” Dean asked.

“Oh, it's just subtext!” Marie exclaimed. “But, then again, you know, you can't spell subtext without.... s-e-x..”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“I don't understand,” said Sam, back in the parking lot.

“Me neither,” said Dean.

“I mean, shouldn't it be... _Dea_stiel?”

Ember smirked. “Really?” Dean asked. “That's your issue with this?”

Sam smirked back at his brother. “No, of course it's not my issue. You know... How about Sastiel? Samstiel?”

“Ok, alright. You know what?” asked Dean. “You're gonna do that thing, where you just shut the hell up. Forever.”

Sam and Ember both laughed.

***Ember POV***

October 22nd Daytime

The Winchesters and Ember had thought, for a second, that there may not be a case. As it turned out, they were wrong. They were back the next day in full FBI gear, after a report that the actress who played Sam had disappeared just like the teacher. There was nothing on the surveillance tapes, and the only thing that had been found was the same flower that had been found near the teacher’s abandoned cell phone.

Marie looked particularly shaken, and had reportedly witnessed the kidnapping.

“Maggie quit the show,” she said. “She was trying to get it shut down, so, we were fighting. Then, she-she left, and I heard her scream. So, I ran outside to help. And... And I saw a scarecrow. It looked just like the one from our show. But... Alive.”

“Then what?” asked Dean.

“It wrapped her in vines, and took her behind the dumpster,” said Marie. “And then they were both just... gone. So, I called the cops, and a bunch of adults just told me I have an overactive imagination. But, it's all real. Ghosts. Angels. Demons.”

“I _wanna_ believe,” said Maeve.

“You should believe,” said Sam. “You both should, ‘cause it’s all real. And so are we. I'm Sam Winchester. That's Dean, and Ember.”

Maeve and Marie looked at Ember and the Winchesters, and then at each other. Both of them started laughing.

“Ok!” said Marie. “Now, look. I'm willing to accept that monsters are real. But those books are works of _fiction_.”

“Are you gonna prove it to her?” Sam whispered in Ember’s ear.

“Nah,” Ember whispered back. “It’ll be funnier later.”

“And you guys are way too old to be Sam, or Dean. More of a Bobby/Rufus combo? Maybe.” All three of them gave the children sour looks.

“Ok,” said Dean. “Alright, Little miss sunshine. We _are_ what the books called hunters.”

“FBI hunters?” asked Maeve.

“Yeah,” said Dean.

Maeve and Marie looked at each other. Finally, Marie confirmed, “You guys _are_ X-Files.”

“Sure. Yeah, you can say that,” said Sam.

After this had been established, the Winchesters and Ember spent awhile working with the girls on identifying the possible monster. They thought it was a tulpa for awhile, but this didn’t seem to fit with the clues. Finally, Sam found the answer. “It’s Calliope,” he said finally. “According to the lore, Calliope manifests creatures from the story she's tuned into.”

“The only way to destroy the scarecrow is to kill Calliope,” said Maeve, who had been reading along with Sam.

“Right,” confirmed Sam. “She uses these manifestations, like the scarecrow, to inspire the author, and protect them, until their vision has been realized. Then she eats the author.”

Everyone turned to look at Marie. “Ok, that's bad!” she said. “Um... Well! You get your wish. Let's cancel the show.”

“That's what your teacher and your classmate did,” said Ember. “They tried to shut you down, and the scarecrow took them, protecting you, and the show.”

“We’ve got to take our shot with this, uh… Calliope,” said Dean. “But she won't show herself until your vision has been realized.”

“So... What are you saying?” asked Marie.

Ember shot the girl a pitying look. Together, she and Dean said, “the show must go on.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

As it turned out, Marie was exceptionally brave. It was her, ultimately, that ended up stabbing the scarecrow. Sam was kidnapped by the scarecrow and stabbed Calliope. Ember could only assume these two things happened simultaneously, because when Marie stabbed the scarecrow, it burst into purple goo, which exploded all over the audience.

Sam returned after the first act with the missing teacher and student, who had been kept locked in an older part of the school. 

Ember knew it would soon be time to say good-bye. Sam and Dean weren’t the type to stay for questions.

“You did good out there, kid,” Dean said to Marie.

“Hmm, you’re not so bad yourself,” Marie said.

“You know? This has been educational,” said Dean. “Seeing the story from your perspective. You keep writing, Shakespeare.”

“Yeah,” Ember said. “Your persistence has paid off. Even if your version is nowhere _near_ what actually happened.” And she disappeared, just for a second, then flickered back into existence again.

Marie’s mouth dropped open. Ember and Dean both grinned.

Suddenly, Maeve’s voice boomed out. “One minute, folks. One minute.”

“Dean?” Marie said as she prepared to go back onstage. “You never should’ve thrown this away.”

Dean closed his fist over a small necklace. “It never really worked,” Dean said. “And, I don’t need a symbol to remind me how I feel about my brother, so…” But Ember could tell from the look on Dean’s face that he felt otherwise. She could tell the amulet meant more to him than he would say in front of Marie.

“Just take it,” said Marie. “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” said Dean automatically, and Ember choked on a laugh. Ember watched as Dean appeared to realize what he had said and who he had said it to, but couldn’t seem to find the right words to apologize.

Marie began to laugh, and Dean relaxed. “Right. Okay.”

Marie headed back to finish the play, and Dean and Ember came to stand by Sam. “Well, I guess we can go back to the bunker,” he commented.

“You know what, Dean?” Sam asked. “You were right. Staying cooped up isn't helping us. We need-…”

“We need to get back on the road, Dean. Doing what we do best,” said Marie, who was still playing Sam on the stage.

“It's just... I don't know anymore,” said the actress playing Dean.

“What is that?” asked Sam.

“It’s, the, uh… The B.M. scene,” said Dean.

“The… bowel movement scene?” asked Sam, and Ember giggled.

“No!” said Dean. “Just… Shhhh!”

“Saving people, hunting things,” said Marie. “You know? The family business.”

“You're right, Sammy. Out on the road. Just the two of us,” said the actress playing Dean.

“The two of us against the world,” said Marie.

“What she said,” said the actual Sam.

Just then, the ensemble broke out into “Carry on My Wayward Son.”

Dean smiled down at Ember, putting his arm around her and pulling her close to him. 

Ember looked up at him, and was relieved to see a peaceful look on his face. “This is the best I’ve felt in a long time,” she whispered into his ear, standing on tiptoe.

“Me too,” he whispered back, pulling her even closer to him.

_Masquerading as a man with a reason_

_ My charade is the event of the season_

_ And if I claim to be a wise man_

_ It surely means that I don’t know_

Dean leaned down to her again. “I love you,” he said to Ember.

It was the first time he’d told her he loved her since the first time they dated.

Castiel flitted into Ember’s mind momentarily, but she banished him as soon as she thought of him. She _did_ love Dean – she always had, though that love had changed through the years. He had been so good to her, after the Demon Blood Bond, and he was _excellent _with the children. And she hadn’t seen Castiel in _months…_

“I love you too,” she said, smiling.

“Marry me,” he whispered back.

Ember’s heart stopped. It seemed as though everything had skidded to a screeching halt. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was choke out, “_What?!”_

Dean looked at Ember in horror, finally seeming to register what he had said. “I have a ring,” he said quickly. “I’ve had it for awhile, actually.”

Ember was still at a loss for words. 

“You don’t have to decide today,” he said, clearly trying to look like it was of no consequence to him one way or the other.

“Uh… okay,” said Ember.

“Okay?” Dean asked, probing for answers.

“I… what about the Mark?” Ember asked.

“Guys, are you ready to go?” asked Sam. “You realize there are _space ninjas _on stage right -… what?” Sam seemed to realize that he had interrupted something.

“It’s… it’s nothing,” said Dean, seeming to shake himself. “You’re right, Sammy, let’s go.”

***Ember POV***

October 22nd, Early Morning

Ember lay on her bed in Conway Springs, attempting sleep but failing. She had _just _changed back from being a demon. She had _just_ gotten stable in a job that didn’t require her to stay in one town and keep stable hours. She had _just _gotten back together with Dean… To be honest, they’d never even really _gotten_ back together, officially. They had simply just not broken up after the whole demon debacle. They’d needed each other, to heal, and for support.

And then there was Castiel. Castiel, who she was still in love with, despite not seeing him for _months_, and despite his very clear indication that it could never work between them.

Dean had been there for her. He had been supportive after the Demon Blood Bond. They had recovered from it, together. He was there for her, consistently, and for the children. And they had been dating for _years…_ Plus, it wasn’t as though she _didn’t _love him…

Josephine had said, “I’m not sure… what about the Mark of Cain? But you’ve been dating him off and on for_ever_, so…”

Aidan had said, “Dean’s awesome! Someday I’m going to beat him in a fight, you know.”

Krissy had said simply, “Dean’s cool.”

Hadn’t they been hurtling toward this forever, though? Her original objections about being with Dean had been about his constant traveling and his inability to maintain a family life, in addition to his impulsive decisions. Ember could teleport now, however, and Dean and Sam’s base of operations (Lebanon, KS) was much closer to her home with the children (Conway Springs, KS) than the South Dakota vs. Indiana distance they used to be attempting to navigate. Her job now allowed her to travel as much as she wanted, and didn’t restrain her, even to Conway Springs. Ember’s family was her own, and Dean was around fairly often, and the kids loved him.

The only issue left was his impulsive decisions, then. Was that something she could live with, for the rest of her life?

And then there was another issue, one that had seemed so irrelevant until now that she hadn’t even dared think about it. She hadn’t known it until she was fully a demon, and (in the process) had had some long talks with Crowley, though admittedly she’d always suspected it: she would live much, much longer than Dean…

Sleep was not coming soon.

***Dean POV***

October 22nd, Evening

Dean relaxed in his bedroom in the bunker. _Why_ had he ruined a wonderful evening by _proposing_, of all things? Ember was right – he was impulsive, and made poor decisions. He had been thinking about proposing, sure, but he hadn’t really planned on doing so for at least a year yet. The moment had seemed perfect, though, and she had been in such a good mood…

As soon as they left the school, Ember had made a hasty exit to check on her children, and began the string of teleportation stops back to her house in Conway Springs. She had not returned, or called. Sam had sensed that something was wrong. “Are you gonna tell me what happened?” Sam asked him.

“No,” he said.

Sam sighed, and eventually Dean could hear his deep breathing, signaling that he had fallen asleep in the front seat of the Impala.

Dean twirled the ring in his hand. It had been his mothers’, so long ago. Her fingers had been too big to wear it after her pregnancy with Sam, and it had miraculously managed to survive the house fire. He had gotten it cleaned and shined back when they had settled down together three years prior, but they had broken up before he’d had the opportunity to propose.

Never had the urge to kill something been so strong as it was now, while he was frustrated and stewing in his misery. But perhaps that was _why_ she didn’t want to marry him. _“What about the Mark?”_

Just as he was finally beginning to drift off to sleep, Dean heard a knock.

“Go away, Sammy!” he yelled.

“It’s me,” said Ember. “You told me to stop teleporting into your room, remember? You got all pissed at yourself after you pulled a gun on me?”

“Come in,” Dean yelled, jumping up and opening the door.

“Yes,” she said.

“What?” he asked. It occurred to him slowly that she must be talking about the proposal. “Really?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, “with conditions... and one question.” She sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to her.

Dean frowned, but sat down to join her, pulling the ring out of his pocket.

“First, you have to _promise _me,” Ember said, “In our _wedding vows_, that if I ever die and go to Heaven, you won’t interfere or find a way to bring me back.”

“Done,” said Dean immediately.

“No, I’m _serious_,” she said. “After everything I’ve done to get into Heaven, and how often you and Sam travel to… I don’t know, to Purgatory, or Hell, or whatever… if I ever go to Heaven, _leave me there.”_

Dean sighed. He understood Ember’s worry, after what had happened with Sam and Gadreel. “I understand, Ember,” he said. “And that’s fine. I know bringing Sam back from the brink of death wasn’t…” he trailed off. The truth was that if he could do it again, he would. Still, he understood how important this was to Ember, and why. “Bobby’s dead,” he pointed out. “Mom and Dad are both dead. Death sucks, but… I _do_ know how to let go.”

Ember nodded. “Fair enough,” she said.

“Is that your only condition?” Dean asked. 

“No,” Ember said. “My other condition is that you control the Mark, or else get it removed.”

Dean had expected this one. “Understood,” he said.

“Okay,” Ember agreed. “And here’s my question. What will I do… after you pass?” Dean looked confused. “I can live up to 100-200 years longer than you, remember?”

Dean nodded, comprehension dawning in his eyes. “I thought about that,” he admitted. “But you’re strong, Ember. You won’t hang onto me, after I’m gone. You’ll let me go. You’ve always been stronger than me, I think sometimes.”

She smiled at him. “That was the perfect answer,” she said. “Then yes,” she said. “I will marry you.”

Dean could feel his face pulling at the corners from smiling, a feeling he wasn’t used to. “I have the ring,” he said. “It was my mother’s.”

Ember looked at the delicate circular band, and held her hand still while Dean slid it onto her finger. “We can get another band if you don’t like this one, or a separate wedding one, or-…”

“It’s perfect,” she said. Dean pulled her close and hugged her. They stayed that way for several minutes. 

***Ember POV***

November 25, Afternoon

The end of October and November were peaceful, overall. Ember joined the brothers picking up an inheritance for Bobby, but the “inheritance” turned out to be a shapeshifter. Said shapeshifter was not one of the “friendly monsters” Ember worked so hard to protect, and so was ultimately killed by Dean. Dean unloaded several rounds into her body after she was already dead, which worried both Ember and Sam. Dean swore the Mark wasn’t influencing him, but they both knew he was lying.

“Do you think it’s only a matter of time before it takes over again, completely?” Ember asked Sam one night.

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “I mean… he seems normal again, except for with the shapeshifter. And she _did_ need to die.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” said Ember. “I just… the Mark isn’t going to let him go, you know? So if he ever dies again… he’ll turn demon again, won’t he?”

“And this time, we’ll know not to let him out of our sight until we cure him,” Sam answered.

Ember knew Sam was making light of the situation, and she knew why. Sam had always been one of the largest proponents of the Ember-Dean relationship, and firmly believed that the best chance for his brother was a union with Ember. She also knew, however, that Sam was just as worried as she was. She could see it in the sideways glances Sam occasionally sent his brother, and the wary eye he kept on him each time they left for a new case.

Ember also joined the brothers for a memorable case involving the investigation of a demonic brothel. Near the end of this case, the three of them got separated. When Ember reunited with Dean, she realized that he was standing with Cole, having an intense conversation. Cole was holding a gun, though it wasn’t pointed directly at Dean. Ember switched to invisible and held back. She was confident that she could stop the bullets from the gun before they hit Dean if necessary, but Cole wasn’t acting as though he was going to shoot Dean… more that he needed to get something off his chest. 

“The only reason that didn't happen is because I was there to stop him,” said Dean.

“I heard his voice. It was a human voice, and he begged you to stop!” said Cole. It looked as though Cole and Dean had been in a fight. Ember could tell that though Cole had the gun, Dean had control of the situation.

“It's a ploy. It's a monster's trick,” said Dean. “I know what you heard, but know this -- that was not your father, Cole. Your father was already gone.”

Suddenly Dean saw Sam over Cole’s shoulder. Sam was pulling a gun on Cole.

“Put it down. Sam, put it down!”

Cole swung around to see Sam, then aimed his gun at Dean. Ember readied herself if he were to shoot.

“Cole, it's fine,” said Dean.

Everyone seemed unsure, so Dean tried again. “Cole, hey, right here. We're talking, okay?”

“How can I believe you, huh?” Cole yelled. “How can I believe you?! My whole life, I've been...”

“I get it,” said Dean. “That was your story. Look, man, I got one of those, too. Okay, but those stories that we tell to keep us going? Man, sometimes they blind us. They take us to dark places --the kind of place where I might beat the crap out of a good man just for the fun of it. The people who love me, they pulled me back from that edge.

“Cole, once you touch that darkness... It never goes away. Now, the truth is... I'm past saving. I know how my story ends. It's at the edge of a blade or the barrel of a gun. So, the question is, is that gonna be today? That gonna be that gun?”

Ember walked slowly to Dean’s side, taking his hand in one definitive motion. He didn’t even jump, and a smile quirked at the corner of his mouth, acknowledging her presence.

“You've got a family, Cole,” said Sam. “I heard you on the phone that night. I'm guessing they need you to come back, and they need you to come back whole.”

Reluctantly, crying, Cole handed back the gun.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“We’re going to talk about tonight,” Ember said softly that evening.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Dean said. “It’s like I told Sam. I just told him what he needed to hear.”

“Fine,” Ember said, quirking a smile. “We’ll talk another night. I was thinking we could talk and then maybe fuck, but I suddenly find that I’m not in the mood.”

Dean narrowed his eyes and muttered something about “difficult women.”

“What was that?” Ember said, smiling.

“I said, _fine,” _Dean said. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Do you really feel that way?”

Dean didn’t have to ask what she was referring to. “Ember, you know that’s how I’ll go out,” he said, “And I’ll be proud to do so, especially if I can save someone in the process. I can never make any guarantees. That’s why-…” he stopped.

“That’s why what?” she asked him.

“That’s why I asked you to marry me,” he said. “Ember… I don’t know whether the Mark will get me today, or tomorrow, or in six months, or in sixty years. I know that with you by my side I can hold it off longer, and I know you’re the best thing in my life, and that I don’t ever want to lose you again. That’s why I proposed. I was hoping we could get married, before…”

“Before your time runs out,” Ember said, finally understanding.

Dean nodded.

“Dean, you have to understand, I don’t think that’s the case,” Ember said, attempting to convince herself as much as Dean. “We _stopped the Apocalypse!_ Give us some credit! Give _yourself_ some credit! Besides, what would my life be like, after you go crazy like Cain! You can’t… you can’t _saddle _me with that. You can’t saddle _the children_ with that.”

“I know that,” said Dean. “That’s why I didn’t bring it up.”

Ember sighed. “Dean, I swear, I’ll find a way to get rid of that Mark, if it kills me. And when I do, I’ll be honored to marry you.” Castiel flitted into Ember’s mind once again, but once again he was quickly banished.

Dean smiled, slightly. Ember knew that Dean _didn’t_ have faith. Perhaps neither did she, in the end. For now, though, the board was already set. Ember would do the best she could, for as long as she could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ideas come while I'm writing, and some come before. Ironically the therapy for survivors idea and the proposal in this and the next chapter came while I was writing. Also, who can pick out the red flags in Ember's relationship with Dean? I never meant for this story to get this deep, but I'm going through some stuff, so there you have it.


	45. The Things we Left Behind

***Ember POV***

January 19, Daytime

Fall turned to winter quickly. Josephine was home for the holidays, and all three children spent a very happy Christmas with Ember at the bunker. Ember knew that Dean and Sam were unprepared, perhaps, with the amount of “Christmas” that Ember imposed upon them. If Dean had expected this to be like any of the four Christmases he had spent with Ember in the past (one year at Bobby’s during the Apocalypse, one year settled at home without Sam, the miserable year they broke up, and the year they were “sort of” back together), he was wrong. She had children now, and she put in 100% on presents, gifts, and food. She knew nothing could make up for the childrens’ real parents being gone, or for the six weeks she had spent as a demon – but she tried, nonetheless.

Aside from Christmas, Ember spent most days seeing clients, either online or over the phone. Garth had brought in a handful of bitten werewolves that saw her for therapy, which she treated like any other sort of addiction. Ember was pleased to learn through one of them that Kate had made her way into the pack and seemed to be fitting in. She saw two vampires on bagged blood, but most of her clients were survivors of demon possession that had found her online. She used a fake name, and so did they – but the money was real. Several of the demon possession survivors were children, as well, which were Ember’s favorite, though it was sad work. She had never felt so fulfilled with her job.

Evenings were spent with the children, and with Dean as often as not. It helped that Dean’s base of operations was less than 4 hours away from theirs, rather than nearly 11 hours like it was the first time they had dated. With her ability to teleport, the trip took Ember only about 40 minutes, as she had to stop halfway and recharge her power before teleporting the rest of the way. Sometimes, Dean and Sam both arrived with large tomes of research, or simply their laptops, for a few days at a time to “get out of the bunker and get some air.”

None of the brothers, nor Ember, had heard from Castiel in a few months. Ember tried not to worry, as this was not uncommon; he was the type of friend that was there when you needed him, but had always spent large chunks of time on “angel missions.”

True to form, however, when he _did_ call, he called Dean. Ember got the impression that she might not even have known that he had called, except that she happened to be in the room at the time Dean got the call. Her heart jumped to her throat at the thought of seeing Castiel again, but she calmed herself, looking at the ring on her finger.

“This is why you called us?” Dean asked the angel the next day. “_This _is your emergency?” They had driven through the night at moments’ notice to Pontiac, IL, only to find out that Castiel’s “emergency” had to do with his vessel’s daughters’ escape from a group home.

“Yes!” insisted the angel.

“No, Cas! An emergency is a dead body, okay? Or—or a wigged-out angel, or the Apocalypse, take three. Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That’s … that’s every Friday night for Sam.”

“Dude,” Sam protested.

“Well,” Dean kidded his brother.

“This isn’t just ‘some chick.’ I’m responsible for her,” protested Castiel.

“Since when?” Dean asked. “You met her once, how many years ago?”

“Look, Cas,” said Sam. “Even if we do find Claire … Then what?”

“She rolled you, and then she ran, okay? It’s pretty clear that she doesn’t want to play house,” said Dean.

“I don’t know, I think it’s great that you’re following up with your vessels’ daughter.” Ember had asked Castiel to do this when he was a human. At the time, Claire had been with her grandmother, and her mother had been visiting occasionally. Ember wondered what had gone wrong over the past year.

“I need to know that Claire is safe,” Castiel said. “And I need your help.” He looked squarely at Ember, and Ember understood. This was something that Castiel had done at least in part because of her influence, but he didn’t want to ask her outright, especially not in front of Dean.

“All right. Uh … Why don’t we go ask around at the group home?” said Sam.

“Uh, you know what? We’re going to stick here in case she circles back. You go ahead,” said Dean. He sent Ember a significant look, and Ember understood: he wanted to talk to Castiel about the engagement. With a sinking heart, she turned her head and followed Sam back to the Impala.

***Castiel POV***

January 19, Evening

Ember smelled wonderful, and looked even better. Castiel hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her for even one day since he’d last seen her, but he could at least say that he didn’t think about her _as often _as he used to. 

Nothing had changed, however. He was still desperately in love with her. He was still dying. Dean still needed her.

He was glad when Dean instructed Ember and Sam to go check out the group home so that he could speak with Dean alone. Ember was a distraction he could not afford. He understood, now, how much damage he had done to Jimmy Novak’s family. It had been necessary, but he wished he could change their situation. “Is ketchup a vegetable?” he asked Dean, thinking about his meal earlier with Claire Novak.

“Hell, yes. All right, so spill. What’s with the family reunion?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve just been … thinking about people.” The truth was that he had meant to check on Claire awhile ago. He had done so last year at Ember’s insistence, and he had meant to do so again this year, but things had been busy. He had spent several months on a mission with Hannah to bring rogue angels back to Heaven, but that mission had ended when Hannah finally accepted her humanity and gave her vessel back to her husband. He had been right – there was much to learn from humanity, and the angels could live harmoniously with them. Hannah had been right too, however – humanity was emotional, and fleeting. “No problem. I’ve helped some, but I’ve … I’ve hurt some.”

“So you’re having a midlife crisis,” Dean said.

“Well, I’m extremely old,” Castiel snarked. “I think I’m entitled.”

“Cas, listen to me,” Dean advised. “There’s some stuff you just got to let go. Okay? The people you let down, the ones you can’t save … You got to forget about them. For your own good.”

“Is that what you do?” he challenged.

“That’s the opposite of what I do,” Dean said. “But I ain’t exactly a role model.”

“That’s not true,” Castiel argued. He had learned how easy it was to give into temptation, as a human. Dean was doing well, not to have given in to the Mark’s influence already.

“Yeah.” Dean began to laugh, obviously not believing his friend. 

“How are you, Dean?” Castiel asked.

“Fine,” Dean said immediately.

Castiel gave him a look. “I’m great!” he insisted again.

“No, you’re not,” Castiel argued.

“Yeah, well, I lost the black eyes, so that’s a plus. But I still have this.” Dean reached over and gently slapped the Mark on his arm.

“Is the Mark of Cain still affecting you?” Castiel asked.

A hooded look came over Dean’s eyes, and his friend did not answer. “Dean?” Castiel asked again.

Dean blinked, returning to the present. “Cas, I need you to promise me something.”

“Of course.”

“If I do go dark side, you’ve got to take me out,” said Dean.

“What do you mean?” asked the angel, although he already knew.

“Knife me. Smite me,” Dean said. “Throw me into the freakin’ sun, whatever. And don’t let Sam, or Ember, get in the way, because they’ll try. I can’t go down that road again, man. I can’t be that thing again.”

“I was hoping Ember would help,” Castiel confessed. “I honestly think she’s always had a calming effect on-…”

“She does,” Dean said emphatically. “Cas, you should know… we’re engaged.”

Something in Castiel’s throat clenched up, and his heart turned over. He somehow managed to not let his reaction show, except for a small, involuntary tick of his mouth. Dean did not miss it. “Cas, I love her,” he said.

“I know, Dean. If you hurt her, I’ll-…”

“I know,” he said seriously. “And that’s why you have to _promise_ me. You _have _to _take_ me _out.”_

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Castiel had been bowled over by both Dean’s request and his admission that he and Ember were engaged. Now was not the time, however, for Castiel to deal with his feelings about either issue. Sam and Ember managed to get a tip from the nursing home about a boy named Dustin who might know Claire’s whereabouts, and Dustin tipped off Castiel that Claire planned to rob a gas station. The boy’s tip had been on target, and Castiel had caught Claire by the arm and marched her out of the gas station just before she pulled a gun.

Outside the gas station, however, Claire once again attempted to run from Castiel. “Claire, wait!” he yelled.

“Screw you,” she said.

“Whoa, hey, Miley Cyrus. Settle,” Dean said, coming up in front of her.

“Eat me, Hasselhoff,” she replied.

“Claire, hold on a second,” said Sam. “Look, my name’s—…”

“Sam,” Claire said, “And you’re Dean. We’ve met, remember?”

“Claire,” Castiel said, ignoring her conversation. “You were going to rob that convenience store?”

“So?”

‘“So?”’ Castiel asked, caught off guard. “So … it’s—it’s wrong!”

“You want to talk to me about wrong?” Claire asked viciously. “You killed my dad. Is that ‘wrong’ enough for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” protested Castiel.

“Really?” she challenged. “Because without you, he’d still be here. And my mom would still be around.”

“Claire, I’m—…” he started, but she pulled a gun from her pocket and cocked it, pointing it at him.

“Don’t!” she yelled.

“That won’t hurt me,” he reminded her gently.

“Fine,” she said. She turned the gun on Sam and Dean, who both took a step back.

“Whoa!” yelled Dean. “Hey, come on.”

“Hold on a second,” protested Sam. 

Castiel knew that Ember was standing with them, invisible, however she wouldn’t act until someone shot. It was a tactic they often used when Ember was around. She could control iron rounds if someone pulled a gun, but often preferred to wait and see how far people would go before she used her powers to judge them.

“Why?” Claire asked. “Like you don’t have it coming? You stood there while this monster took my dad.” She turned to Castiel, her gun still on Sam and Dean. “I used to pray to you, Castiel. Every night. I would beg you to bring him home safe.”

“I know,” he admitted. He had explained this to Ember, once. That was why he had looked her up the first time. He had found out that her grandmother had died, however, and her mother hadn’t returned to claim her, leaving her to travel through group homes for much of the past year.

“You know … My father was a good man,” said Claire. “In what messed up world does he have to die and you get to live?”

“I’m sorry,” said Castiel.

“No. You feel guilty,” Claire said. “There’s a difference.”

“So what?” asked Sam. “Now you run back to Randy? The guy you steal for?”

“How do you know about that?” asked Claire.

“Dustin,” said Dean.

“Claire, that man is using you,” said Castiel.

“He was there for me,” insisted Claire. “When things got bad—and they got _real_ damn bad—he was there when no one else was. _He’s_ my family. And you’re just … you can go to hell.” And she ran away into the night, her gun still on Sam and Dean as she left.

“Ember?” Dean whispered into the night. There was no answer.

“Don’t worry,” said Dean. “Ember’s with her.”

***Dean POV***

January 19, Late Evening

Castiel was clearly dejected as they headed inside a nearby bar. “Give me a shot of, um…”

“Three whiskeys,” said Dean.

“Cas, don’t beat yourself up, man,” said Sam. “Claire was …”

“Right,” said Castiel. “She was right. Who am I to tell her how to live her life?”

“Well, somebody needs to,” said Dean. “It’s not like we’re talking about Mother Teresa here. The girl just about knocked over a Gas n Sip. She’s got issues.”

“Because of me,” said Castiel.

“Well, you are wearing her old man’s meat suit,” Dean said. “Probably didn’t help.” He caught Sam’s admonishing shake of the head, but he had never been the type to sugarcoat things for his friends.

“I thought I could make it up to her,” Castiel explained.

“I don’t think you can,” said Sam. “I mean, Jimmy was her father, and to some people, that’s … That’s everything, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” replied Castiel. “I never knew my father. He was distant, to say the least.” He turned to Dean. “What about you? Did you love your father?”

Dean looked at Sam, then back at Castiel. He thought about his father, who had died to save him when he had been killed in a car accident. “With everything I had,” he said honestly.

“Yeah,” confirmed Sam. “Yeah. I mean, it wasn’t always easy, but yeah.”

“I mean, look,” said Dean. “John Winchester’s not going to win any ‘Number One Dad’ awards, you know? But you know… damn if he wasn’t there when we needed him.”

“Hey, uh … Tell him about that time in New York,” said Sam.

Dean remembered the story vividly. “Oh yeah. Yeah, okay. So, uh … We were working this haunting in Long Island, and me and Sam begged the old man to let us go to the city for once.”

“He had this thing about New York, right?” Sam filled in. “Too big, too loud, too dirty.”

“Yeah, and he hated the Yankees,” said Dean.

“Big time,” confirmed Sam.

“Somehow, we convinced him to let us go,” said Dean. “So, we all go. We all, you know, see all the sights, and uh, ride the subway, eat too much pizza. The whole nine. Well, by about midnight, Sam and Dad are zonked, and I figure… Screw it. I’m going to CBGB.”

Sam started, “So CBGB is—…”

“I know,” said Castiel. “It’s where The Ramones and Blondie got their start.”

Dean gave Sam a questioning look. He wondered who had finally schooled Castiel on pop culture. Had it been Ember? They had spent that year together… his heart clenched with jealousy, but now wasn’t the time. “Right,” he said.

“Wow,” added Sam. “Anyways, he was _way _underage at the time.”

“All right, so I get there,” continued Dean. “I sneak in, and it is nuts. I mean, people are drinking and they’re smoking and they’re—they’re snorting whatever. There’s a five-hundred pound guy on stage with a Mohawk just screaming. And, uh, my mind is blown. I don’t even know what to do. Then this girl walks up and she says ‘Hey, why don’t you come over and sit down with me and my friends at our table?’ All right!”

“Yeah, and they get him drunk,” said Sam. “First time.”

“But not fun drunk,” Dean continued. “I’m not quite sure what was in that stuff, but the room starts to spin, and I feel like I’m going to puke … forever. And right about that time, I hear him. ‘Dean Winchester!’”

Castiel looked confused. “My old man,” Dean continued. “I don’t know how, but he found me. And now I’m really freaking out, because he’s just standing there, not saying anything. I look around, and everybody else is freaking out, too. In fact, nobody’s even looking him in the eye. And finally, this one guy with, like, a safety pin through his nose and a—a ‘Kill Everything’ tattoo looks up and he says, ‘Sorry, sir.’”

Castiel smiled, and Dean shook his head. “Yeah. ‘Sorry, sir.’ To John friggin’ Winchester.”

Dean and Sam took a sip of their whiskey, but Castiel threw his back like a shot. “He saved you,” said Castiel.

“Yeah, and you know what he got for that?” said Dean. “Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me telling him that I hated him. But then he stopped and turned around and he looked at me and he said, ‘Son, you don’t like me? That’s fine. It’s not my job to be liked.’”

“’It’s my job to raise you right’” finished Sam.

“Yeah. And he did,” Dean added.

Castiel looked at Dean quizzically. “Are you that kind of father? To the children?”

Dean was taken aback by Castiel’s question, but he realized, to his surprise, that he immediately knew the answer. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I… guess I am.” Immediately to his mind came a story from the week before, and he laughed thinking about it. “Aidan had shacked up at a girls’ house for three days, and not told us,” he explained. “And he’s 17, you know, I get it, but he could’ve _told _us. Turned out the girls’ parents didn’t know either, and it was a whole mess…” Ember had been furious, but not with him. He smiled again at the memory. “We never would’ve known, but I caught him sneaking back in one morning. And he tried to get me to keep it a secret, but I told him the same thing my Dad told me…” Dean shook his head. “That was last week, and Aidan’s still grounded. But overall, they’re good kids, you know? None of them have ever been in any _real_ trouble…”

“Do you think Claire is in trouble?” asked Castiel.

“She’s hanging out with a guy named Randy,” Dean said. “She’s in trouble.”

Suddenly, the phone rang. It was Ember, with the address.

***Ember POV***

January 19, Night

Pulling out a phone while invisible was complicated at the best of times. If she kept it in her pants, it would remain invisible, like her clothing, so long as it fit tightly. If she held it in her hand, it extended past her invisibility, and she could never seem to make it stay invisible. Therefore, she had to be very careful about when, where, and how often she sent update texts when she was on a clandestine mission.

Finally, Claire made it home to what Ember assumed was her loan shark’s house. She knew Sam, Dean, and Castiel were already headed this direction, so they wouldn’t be too far behind her. She should really ask Dean to turn on the GPS in her phone, she thought – that would’ve made this a whole lot easier.

When Ember returned to the living room after texting the final address, she found a middle-aged man surrounded by slightly younger men, who she could only assume from the conversation were loan sharks. Claire was facing down the group of men, seeming startled.

“Guns blazing, huh?” said a scruffy man. “That was your plan? Trust me. This pile of crap? He ain’t worth it.”

Claire spit in his face. The man smiled. “Put her in the other room,” he said to one of his goons.

Ember smiled. She had a feeling she knew what was about to happen. Once Claire and the loan shark’s goon were out of sight, Ember acted. She forced both up against the wall, frozen, listening, out of sight. The loan shark goon’s face was a picture of fear, but Claire’s eyes showed annoyance as well.

“So how about I give you a break?” the loan shark was asking Randy. “And you give me the girl.”

Randy shook his head. “That’s a joke, right? Claire’s like family to me.”

“Please!” the loan shark said. “I know the con, all right? You find some kid with Major League daddy issues and then get her to steal for you. Cut the proud papa act. I’ll make you a good deal.”

“Like I said, Claire’s family,” said Randy. “So it better be a damn good deal.”

Claire’s eyes turned fearful, betrayed, though she still didn’t move. The time was now. In one swift motion, Ember let both Claire and the loan shark’s goon go. She couldn’t keep ahold of them for too much longer, anyway, as it was beginning to max out the new limit on her powers… but they didn’t need to know that. Instead, she took the loan shark and suspended him by one ankle from the ceiling, using her force powers. “Leave!” she commanded in a high, cold voice. “The girl will not be touched! And you will never see her again, or I will _gut_ you! Leave, now, or _die!”_

All the men in the room scattered. Claire attempted to run, too, but Ember tripped her, and she went sprawling on the floor. “Not you,” she whispered.

When she walked out with Claire, she saw the Impala driving up toward the house. “Ride’s here,” she said to Claire gently, becoming visible suddenly. 

Claire screamed with shock and rage, but another, louder scream came from behind her. It was the loan shark, who Ember hadn’t seen at first. She knew he must’ve taken more time getting out of the house after being dropped to the floor from an airborne position. He must’ve figured out what was really going on after he saw Ember reappear. “What the fuck, bitch!” he screamed at Ember. “She’s mine, fair and square you stupid whore!”

Suddenly, Dean was there, too. She felt him hurtle past her, and she saw, for just a second, the look in his eyes. Crazed, his pupils blown wide, like a killer. “Dean!” she screamed at him, but he kept going. He punched the loan shark, once, twice, laying into the man. “Dean!” Ember screamed again, but he wouldn’t stop. Blood was gushing from the mans’ nose and mouth, and Dean had taken him by the throat and was choking him. The man was helpless to resist, and Dean’s eyes were cold, his mouth upturned in a smirk. Claire was screaming again, and her screams added to the confusion.

“Dean, please!” Ember screamed, one last time, desperately, and hit Dean with a blast of force-power. Dean was blasted off his feet and backward, where he hit the ground with a light _thud._ The loan shark began to limp as fast as he could into the forest. His leg was obviously broken, as Dean had bent it backward, and it stuck out oddly behind him.

When he hit the ground, Dean seemed to shake himself, and his eyes ultimately came to rest on Ember. She saw his brown eyes blown wide in the flickering light, and they were full of fear. His breath was coming in giant heaves, and he began to shake. Ember ran to him and hugged him, and she felt his hands encircle her, and his body use hers for weight. “Ember,” he whispered softly. “Ember…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the readers!


	46. Inside Man

***Ember POV***

January 20, Morning

“You have a choice,” Ember said to Claire.

“Fuck you.”

“Either way, you have a choice. You can stay here at the bunker. You can stay with me in Conway Springs. Or, you can go to a group home. We’ll look around for group homes, and you can find a better one than the one you were at before.”

“And what will you do if I don’t?” Claire asked.

“Find you again, pull you out, and give you the same choices.”

“I’ll disappear. I’ll go off the grid.”

“Cas is an angel. You can’t hide from angels.”

“You guys do,” Claire pointed out.

“We know how,” Ember said. “And you don’t.”

“So those are my choices?” Claire snapped. “The people who are responsible for what I’ve been through, or a group home that can have no fucking _concept _of what I’ve been through?”

Suddenly, Ember had an idea. _Jodi._ “Actually… there may be a third choice.”

***Castiel POV***

January 22, Evening

“Thanks for taking care of Claire,” Castiel told Ember when she teleported back to the bunker that evening. 

“It was no problem,” Ember said, shuffling her feet. It was the first conversation that had transpired between the two of them in months, a fact which Castiel was sure that Ember was also painfully aware. “She’s settled at Jodi’s. I think she’s going to be okay there. She seemed to like it, anyway.”

“Good,” Castiel said awkwardly.

Sam seemed to catch the awkward tone of their conversation, and mercifully changed the subject. “I’ve never seen Dean like that,” he said, sounding worried. “There have been a couple of times since he had the Mark where he seemed to enjoy killing a little too much, but never…”

“Never what?” asked Dean. Sam stood, surprised, as Dean walked in from the other room.

“Dean-…” Ember started.

“I know,” said Dean. “You can say it. You’re not wrong. I crossed the line. Guys, this thing’s gotta go.” He looked down at the Mark on his arm.

***Ember POV***

January 28, Evening

**ONE WEEK LATER**

Despite all of their research, the Winchesters, Ember, and Castiel had found nothing that would help Dean get rid of the Mark.

A week later, Charlie Bradbury returned from the land of OZ, where she reported the Wizard of OZ had performed a spell that allowed her to separate her good and evil sides. Her evil side had won the war for OZ single-handedly, but she needed Dean, Sam, and Ember’s help to recombine her evil and good sides.

The three were successful, but not without a price. Dean punched Charlie twice in the face before Ember was able to get to him and stop him.

Dean had never punched a woman before, at least not one that wasn’t a monster, and he took it fairly hard. “You can give the ring back,” Dean told her the night after it happened.   
“Not happening,” Ember said. “I’ve finally gotten used to wearing it, and what it means. You’re not getting it back.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “You’ve stopped me three times now when I would’ve killed, in the last two weeks alone. Metatron was right – I’m getting worse. How long until I hurt you, Ember?”

“I’m more durable than you give me credit for,” she reminded him. “Dean, I’m stronger than you. The fact is that I _have _been stopping you, and I’m going to _keep_ stopping you, for as long as I can, or as long as I need to. It’s what Castiel - …”

“It’s what Castiel _what?” _Dean asked sharply, whipping his head backward.

“It’s what Castiel _said would happen,_” Ember said sharply. She had been about to say _“It’s what Castiel wanted when we broke up_,” but she had caught herself. She suspected that Dean had known that Castiel had been her first choice, but they’d never discussed it. As she constantly reminded herself, Castiel had insisted that he didn’t want her, and honestly her relationship with Dean was going very well aside from the “Mark of Cain” issue. He had never been a more loving partner or more helpful with the children than he was now. “Dean, if the situation were different, if it were me having difficulty battling my demon side, you’d say the _same thing_. We’ll figure it out, we always do. I _love_ you, with or without the Mark of Cain. And if the time comes when you can’t control it anymore, or when you don’t respond to me, or when I can’t _force _you back, well then, we’ll deal with it then.”

***Dean POV***

February 4, Daytime

**ONE WEEK LATER**

Dean locked himself in the bunker for a week, researching the Mark of Cain. He understood few things about it, but more than anything he understood that the longer he went without killing, the stronger the urge became. He also knew that Metatron was right: each time he killed, the urge to kill again returned even more quickly. He had been cured of being a demon in mid-August. He had killed two werewolves in late October, just over two months later, and a shapeshifter in November. In December, his hand had begun to shake, and he had been desperate for another kill. When he killed two vampires, the Mark had been sated. 

Now it was the beginning of February, and the urge to kill had never been so strong. He thought about it all the time, and when Sam and Ember insisted he accompany them on a case, he was terrified. Still, he went along with them, because Sam was right: he couldn’t shut himself inside forever.

Dean and Ember were only on the case a few hours before they managed to trace the disappearances back to a witch, who was turning worthless alcoholics in bars into teenagers to use as a food source (Dean included). “In the olden days, if a child went missing—ah, the young died all the time,” she told Dean, Sam, and Ember. Now, though, with all your AMBER Alerts and your milk cartons, a person fillets one rugrat, and people get so angry. So, I improvise. I take adults no one will miss and give them back their youth.”

Ember had been wonderful on this case. She had done her usual routine of going invisible and following Dean when he got captured and breaking him out, along with a girl named Tina that had been captured with him. At the last possible second, she had used her force powers to send guns back into Dean’s and Sam’s hands, allowing Sam to shoot the witch’s henchman. The witch then realized where Ember was, however, and used her powers to attack Sam and Ember with some form of torture spell. 

Without another choice, as both of them laid gagging on the floor, Dean ran over to the witch’s henchman and squeezed the hex bag around his neck, turning himself back to his original age. Then he used the strength of Cain to push the witch into her own oven, killing her.

It was both good and bad. On the one hand, Dean almost wished he had stayed a teenager. That had been the original plan, because in his teenage form he did not have the Mark of Cain. He had needed the strength of a grown man, much less the strength of Cain, to push the witch into the oven, and so he had turned himself back. Still, he had made a kill, for the first time since the beginning of December, and so the mark was sated – for now.

***Ember POV***

February 21, Daytime

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

In mid-February, Dean explained to Ember that he had given up looking for a cure. She understood his reasons. She knew that spending time fruitlessly searching for a cure that would more than likely never reveal itself was making him anxious and frustrated, which fueled the Mark. In contrast, Dean wanted to devote his time to more “peaceful” activities which he enjoyed – eating food that was bad for him, drinking, having sex, hunting, and killing when it was necessary to help others. These activities seemed to center him, and so Ember supposed he was right.

It didn’t mean _she _was giving up searching for a cure. 

Dean tried to tell her she didn’t have to. “I’m gonna fight it until I can’t fight it anymore,” Dean told her. “And when all is said and done… One of you will have to kill me, just like I’ve said before.”

“And if you ever say that to me again,” Ember told him, “I may just _be_ the one to kill you, and I’ll shoot you in your nads first and let you bleed out.”

“That wouldn’t be my first preference,” he said irritably. Then, once again, he added, “You should really give the ring back. I mean, you don’t want to be-…”

“Not happening,” she said again.

“So what, then?” he asked irritably. “You want to stay and watch until the end? Because we both know where this is going.”

Ember leveled him with a glare. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re the _second_ man this year that’s tried to break up with me so that I _don’t have to watch when things get bad?_”

Ember could see that she had shocked Dean. They had briefly discussed Ember’s breakup with the angel on a few occasions, of course. Still, Ember was certain that in a corner of his mind, Dean still hoped that there had been additional reasons that Castiel had broken up with her, reasons which implied some amount of incompatibility.

“I’m damn _sick and tired_ of men deciding what I can and can’t stick around for,” she continued viciously. “I _thought_ you were going to be the one who let me _help _you, for once.” 

Dean opened his mouth in shock. He began to talk, but Ember cut him off again. “You notice, the guy that broke up with me _so I wouldn’t have to watch him die_ is _still kicking._ We saved the world, Dean Winchester. We stopped the Apocalypse. _Twice_. _And_ we saved the world from the Leviathans. Don’t give up on me yet. You can say that to me on Volcano Day, but _it’s not Volcano Day yet!”_

Ember stormed off down the hallway, passing Sam on the way to the room she shared with Dean at the bunker. “She’s right, you know,” she heard him say.

***Dean POV***

April 1, Morning

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Keeping the Mark of Cain sated, without making any extra kills, was difficult enough, but he had managed okay for nearly a year now. Then, near the end of February, he was forced to kill Cain himself. After that, he knew it would get worse. “Dean… wielding the Blade against Cain himself, win or lose, you may never come back from that fight,” Sam had said. And he had been right. Even though Dean _had _returned from the fight, the urge to kill was almost constant now, going away for mere weeks at a time between kills.

Fortunately, hunting had picked up recently. Over the past month, the vampire population in Utah had exploded, and he and Sam had spent days at a time in Utah attempting to keep it under control. There had also been a ghost case in Massachusetts and a new version of the kahn worm in North Carolina.

Finally, near the beginning of March, things slowed down. “How did you sleep?” Sam asked on the morning of the first day of April.

He’d had a horrible nightmare, and he had woke himself up screaming, but he wasn’t going to tell Sam that. “Like a drunk baby. What have we got?”

“Uh, nothing,” Sam said.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I mean, uh, no weird deaths, no demon signs. There's a Kitsune working some truck stops outside of Boise, but Rudy's on it, so . . .”

“All right,” Dean said. “So, uh, snow day. I say we get drunk and shoot crap.”

“Yeah, except we do that every day. Actually, I was thinking about seeing a movie.”

“Yeah, that could be cool,” agreed Dean.

“It's a French movie.”

“You mean like nudie French?”

“Even better. It's about a mime that's secretly a cockroach,” said Sam.

“I-I don't get it.”

“Dude, The New York Times said -…”

“Who cares?” Dean interjected.

“All right, well . . . It's playing in Wichita, so I might not be back till morning,” said Sam.

“Well, I trust you. Make good choices.”

“Right,” said Sam. “You know, I mean . . . I don't have to go alone . . .”

“It's fine,” said Dean. “Besides, I could use a little "me" time.”

“All right,” said Sam. “Stay out of my room.”

“Totally,” Dean said.

Next, he called Ember. “Hey, what are you doing today?”

He was met with silence. Finally, she said somewhat irritably, “I’m _working,_ Dean.”

“But you make your own schedule now!”

“Yeah, I can rearrange my schedule around hunts,” said Ember. “Is something wrong? I thought you wrapped up that case in Utah, and Sam told me last night there’s been nothing in the papers since. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” said Dean reluctantly. “I was just wondering if I should stop in for a surprise visit.”

“You know I’d love that,” said Ember, “but I’m afraid I won’t have much time to spend with you. I’m booked today… but Aidan’s got that wrestling tournament tomorrow evening. You’ll still be in town for that, right?”

“Yeah,” said Dean dejectedly. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

He wondered if Rudy needed help with the kitsune. 

***Ember POV***

April 1, Morning

“Thanks for coming, Cas,” said Sam. Sam had been at Ember’s for a good hour already, but Castiel had just arrived. Both of them had parked their cars in Ember’s two-car garage, in case Dean happened to make the surprise visit he had been threatening that morning. Ember ignored the way her heart leapt when Castiel got out of his car.

“Of course,” Castiel said. “Where’s Dean?”

Ember and Sam looked at each other. “This is about Dean,” said Sam. 

Ember hated lying to Dean about what they were doing, but she also knew that this adventure fell under the category of things that they needed to tell Dean about afterwards, if they ever told him at all. Ember knew that Dean wanted to stop searching for a way to remove the Mark. She also knew, however, that if the shoe had been on the other foot and it had been her or Sam with the Mark of Cain, Dean would go full-speed ahead with their plan, without having the reservations she had now. There was a small voice inside her head reminding her that she had been angry with Dean for this very thing – making decisions about another persons’ fate without telling them. Still, another voice argued, she, Sam, and Castiel were attempting to save Dean from a horrible fate from which he refused to save himself. It wasn’t like they were removing his memories against his will, for example, or foiling someone’s chances at Heaven by tricking them into being possessed by an angel.

“He’s getting worse,” Sam said. “Cas, we've gone through every other option possible. We’ve got to talk about -…”

“Don't say it,” Castiel said.

“Do you think I want this?” Sam snapped. “I'm not a fan of it, either. But if we want to get rid of the Mark . . . I'm just saying, Charlie's gone radio silent; everything else we've tried has been a dead end. So . . .”

“So I'll drive.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The plan had been to speak with Metatron again, but that didn’t work out as well as the small group had hoped. The angels refused to allow Castiel entrance to Heaven. “We both know the only way Metatron helps you is if he's free,” said Hannah, who was currently leading Heaven. “And I can't let the Scribe out of his cell. Not again. He's too dangerous.”

So the group went to Plan B. “Bobby can get him out,” Sam said.

“Sam, that’s the dumbest idea-…”

“Do you have a better one?” asked Sam.

“No, but he’s in _Heaven,_ and he’s _happy_, and Metatron will be _guarded, _won’t he?” Ember looked at Castiel. “What do you think about this?”

Castiel looked arrested. “Actually, the plan has merit,” Castiel said. “There really aren’t a lot of angels guarding Heaven. They don’t have a lot of break-outs. If Bobby can make his way down to the gate, he can open the entrance for me, and then we can break Metatron out together. The prison is actually fairly close to the entrance. But I don’t see how we can get word to Bobby if-…”

“I’ve got an idea about that,” said Sam.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Four hours later, in the darkness, the group was huddled around the table of a psychic, Oliver Price. “Have you got anything that belonged to the deceased?”

“Yes,” said Sam. “Right here.” He reverently pulled Bobby’s hat out of his bag and placed it on the table. Ember’s heart dropped. Was she really about to talk to her father again? She missed him _so_ much…

“Good,” said Price. “Now shut up and hold hands. Amate spiritus obscure, Te quaerimus. Te oramus, nobiscum colloquere, apud nos circita.”

They held hands and concentrated. Suddenly, they heard as if from far away the tune to an old Kenny Rogers song. 

_You gotta know when to hold em…_

“Bobby?” Sam said. “Bobby, can you hear me? Bobby, we need your help.”

And then, Bobby spoke, and Ember’s heart turned over. “Sam?” Bobby asked.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Seven hours later, Ember waited with Sam in front of the door to Heaven. The door to Heaven was, ironically, a playground. Ember had been here with Castiel a few times, but it had been nearly a year ago.

Ember had decided a long time ago that she widely preferred being a part of an adventure than waiting by the sidelines until it was over, and this was no exception. She wished she’d been able to talk to Bobby more, too, but it wasn’t safe. They’d managed to give him the information he would need to open the door, and then they’d only had a second to say a brief good-bye. It was just enough to remind Ember exactly how much she missed her father.

Suddenly, a white light erupted out of the sandbox, and Metatron came stumbling out with Castiel.

“Sam-tastic!” Metatron said loudly. “And if it isn’t Castiel’s little _hell-_raiser!” Castiel’s mouth formed a snarl. “Miss me? Oh, smell that? That smells like freedom. Well, let's go. I call shotgun!”

“You don't get to make demands, Metatron,” said Castiel. “You're not in charge here.”

“Oh, I'm afraid I am,” said Metatron. “I know about the Mark. I have your Grace. I make the rules. It's called leverage, boys. Learn it, live it, love it.”

Castiel looked at Sam and Ember, who nodded. “Do it,” said Ember. Castiel pulled out his angel blade and sliced Metatron’s throat open. A white light came out of Metatron into a little glass jar. Somehow, it seemed gruesome to Ember. _Was that how it happened to Castiel?_ Castiel healed Metatron’s throat, and then Sam shot him in the leg.

“Ow!” screamed Metatron. “OW!” Ember smiled.

“We have your Grace, Metatron,” said Castiel. “You're mortal now. So you will answer our questions, or Sam will, um . . . What's the phrase? Blow your frickin brains out. It's called leverage, Metatron.” The words sounded foreign from Castiel, whom Ember had loved so intimately, and who had always been so kind. She saw now, for the first time in forever, the angel who had led battles and killed thousands.

“Learn it, live it, love it,” said Sam. “How do we get rid of the Mark?”

Metatron looked terrified. “I-I don't know.” Sam aimed the gun at Metatron’s head, and Ember began to squeeze his throat with her force powers. “I don't know! No, I-it's old magic . . God-level magic! Or Lucifer level, but you can't ask him, exactly, can you?”

“What about the tablets?” Castiel asked in his deep, gravely voice.

“No, Th-there's . . . there's nothing in them about the Mark.”

“So when you said ‘The river ends at the source,’ that was-…”

“I was just making up crap, trying to buy time till I could screw you over,” said Metatron.

“No,” said Sam, horrified.

“Fuck you,” said Ember.

“What?!” Metatron said. “It worked before.”

“He's telling the truth,” said Castiel. “Shoot him.”

Sam aimed the gun at Metatron's head. “No, no!” Metatron screamed at Castiel. “No! Your Grace! I wasn't lying about that. There's still some left. I'll take you to it.”

Sam and Ember both looked at Castiel. “It's your call, Cas,” said Sam.

“I’ll go with him,” Castiel said, stepping to the side so Metaron, who was tied up, couldn’t hear him.. “You two stay here and try to help Dean.”

Ember nodded. “Cas… I hope you find it. Just… make sure to get Metatron back, okay?”

Castiel nodded. “Are you going to tell Dean?”

“Probably,” Ember admitted. “I don’t like to keep secrets from him. Metatron doesn’t have his Grace, so… as long as he doesn’t get his hands on _yours_, he shouldn’t be able to do too much damage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of how I wrote Dean's addiction to killing. And Ember/Cas fans, never fear, there's still some stuff to come…


	47. Dark Dynasty, The Prisoner

***Ember POV***

April

When Ember told Dean about Metatron, he was only mad for a short period of time. He did admit, ultimately, that it was what he would’ve done, had the situation been reversed. To Ember’s surprise, Dean also had news of his own. While Sam, Ember, and Castiel had broken Metatron out of Heaven’s prison, Dean had met up with Crowley. He had learned that the Mark of Cain was a curse. He had also learned that Rowena, a witch who had given Sam and Dean trouble in the past, was actually Crowley’s mother!

Together, the two of them enjoyed reading Ember’s letter from Bobby:

_Ember, _

_ Cas says you’re engaged to Dean now, and that you’ve got kids, like you always wanted. I’m so happy to hear it! It’s strange, to think I’m a Grandpa. And if Dean hurts you, I’ll come down there and kill him myself, and this time he won’t find his way out of Hell. _

_ I told Sam, too: Cas told me what you're doing for Dean. And I'm not asking you to stop, but maybe going behind his back ain't the best idea. He can be stubborn. But I think he'd understand. And I know it's the life . . . doing a little bad so you can do a lot of good. But sometimes the bad's real bad and the good . . . it can come at one hell of a price. I ain't there on the ground, and whatever you do, I know you'll make the right choice. I couldn’t be more proud of you both. It’s not the life I would’ve chosen for you, but it sounds like you’re happy. I was content up here. But getting the call from you, it's the happiest I've been in forever, no matter what it costs. So stay safe, keep fighting, and kick it in the ass. _

_-Bobby_

After reading Bobby’s later, Dean was a bit more open than he’d been previously to the idea that Ember wasn’t willing to give up on researching the Mark of Cain. Finally, in mid-April, Ember and the Winchesters caught another break. Charlie had managed to find the Book of the Damned, an ancient book describing how to get rid of the Mark, along with other curses. 

Unfortunately, this was not without complications. The Book was coded in a dead language which was difficult to translate. In addition, an ancient family called the Styne family, the books’ most recent owners, were hot on Charlie’s tail.

“Those people following you… All kinds of wrong,” Dean said. “We’re talking multi-generational, centuries old wrong. The Styne family. Men of Letters’ files have them dated back to the early 1800s. They used spells to create disease, to destabilize markets. Hell, they even helped the Nazis before they came into power, and they profited from all of it… All the spells they used came from a book of “unspeakable evil”.

“Okay, so they’re bad,” Sam said. “So what. We’ve faced worse.”

“Sam, read the file,” Dean said. “The way the book works, is when you use it, there is a negative reaction. I’m talking biblical negative. Dark magic always comes with a price. We know that. We’ve been down that road before.”

“Well, let’s at least translate it, see what it says,” said Charlie.

“You guys don’t understand,” said Dean. “The book’s been calling out to me ever since I laid eyes on it. It’s calling out to the Mark. I can hear it like it’s alive. It wants me to use it, but not for good. Look, I wanted it to be the answer too, okay? I really did. But we have got to get rid of that. Burn it, bury it, I don’t give a damn. We’ll just have to find another way to fix the Mark.”

“Like what?” asked Charlie.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted.

“Dean, that’s not fair,” Ember protested. “We won’t _do _anything the book suggests until we know what we’re dealing with, but it’s too important to-…”

“Ember, this book is _unspeakable evil_. I’m tired of trying to make something right and making a thousand more wrongs instead!” Dean exploded.

“So you’re giving up?”

Dean sighed. “No, I’m not giving up. I don’t have a death wish. Okay, even if I did, I can’t die, not with this thing on my arm. What I can do is I can fight it as long as I can until….”

“Until what?” Sam exploded. “Tell me. Until what, Dean? Until I watch you become a demon again? Until then? I can’t do that. I _won’t_ do that.”

“Well, then you’ll just have to lock me up. Bind me to the bunker like you did last time.”

“That doesn’t solve anything,” protested Charlie.

“Look, just let us translate the book, okay? If there’s a cure, we’ll do it and deal with the consequences later. I can’t lose you.”

But, as usual with the Winchesters, that wasn’t how it played out. When the Stynes caught up with the Winchesters, Sam threw the book in the fire to keep them at bay, at Dean’s command.

And so, with Metatron unable to help them and the Book of the Damned burnt to a crisp, they were back to square one.

That day after the Book of the Damned was burned, however, Ember got another shock. 

“Cas!” she said, answering the door to the bunker upon her return. “You… you got your Grace back!” She could tell immediately, because the shine of Castiel’s own Grace was different than when he was using a borrowed one. She was so happy and surprised that she hugged him.

Castiel looked down at her in surprise. “You noticed that quickly?” 

Ember blushed, backing up immediately, embarrassed. “I just meant… You’re not… we don’t have to be scared, anymore.” But when she looked up into Castiel’s eyes, a very different look passed between them. He hadn’t looked at her like that since the last night they had been together, before she had become a demon. _All of the reasons we broke up no longer exist…_

As quickly as the look had passed across Castiel’s face, it was gone, replaced with calm, and Ember’s heart plummeted. Surely she had imagined it…

Castiel came inside and told Dean, Sam, and Ember all about what had happened with Metatron, who had escaped with the demon tablet. Ember was agitated about this, but it helped to know that Metatron was now human. If he really wanted to, it wouldn’t be too hard for the angels up in Heaven to find him. 

Still, Castiel was worried. “I was foolish, selfish,” Castiel said. “I should’ve just killed him. Who knows what he’ll do with that tablet.”

“Well, you know what, Cas? You got your Grace back. You’re back. You did the right thing.”

“And you’re stuck with us for good now,” Dean added, with a short glance at Ember. She understood what his glance meant. _Castiel’s not dying now… but my fate is uncertain. You should leave me, now. Don’t be stupid enough to stay._

Despite her earlier interlude with Castiel, however, Ember gave Dean a hard look in return. _I love you. I’m not giving up. _It was too late now, she thought, calming her beating heart and avoiding Castiel’s eye. She was engaged to Dean. She was trying to keep him from going “dark side”, which was becoming more of a challenge by the day.

“You did the right thing,” Castiel was saying. “That book needed to be destroyed. We will find another way, Sam.”

It was a good evening, overall. Charlie met Castiel for the first time, and Castiel healed her carpal tunnel and a bullet wound she had obtained from the Styne’s. The five of them spent the evening eating pizza and joking around, for what all of them knew might very well be the last time. 

***Ember POV***

July 5, Afternoon

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

May went by quickly. Dean cleared out a vampire next in Tulsa, and a few stragglers in surrounding areas. He helped his brother crack open a Werther box that housed a mysterious Codex. He even helped Castiel and Sam track down Claire’s mother Amelia, who, it transpired, had been kidnapped by an angel a few years before. Amelia died, but at least Claire got to have closure and reunite with her before she passed.

And still, the Mark got worse. By the end of May, Dean had to make a kill approximately every week to quell the shaking and the urges. It was too much even for Dean to keep up with.

Ember and Sam continued to research the Mark of Cain, but with no results. They were getting desperate now. Ember was working less, sleeping less, eating less, and researching more. It was all she could do to hide from Dean how worried she actually was, though she was fairly certain he knew. Even Krissy had been helping with the research, but had also turned up nothing. Finally, on July 5th, Sam showed up, unannounced, at Ember’s house in Conway Springs.

“Ember, we need to talk.”

Ember sighed. She knew this was serious – Sam didn’t take four hour detours without Dean for no reason.

“What would you do to help Dean get rid of the Mark of Cain?”

Ember’s face darkened. This was not the conversation she had been expecting. She had been expecting a conversation about how to kill Dean once he lost control, but this appeared to be a different conversation entirely.

“I assume you have a plan?” she asked.

“Yeah, but you’re not gonna like it.” He explained how he hadn’t actually burned the Book of the Damned, and that Charlie and Rowena were both trying to decode it. He explained that the Codex that he and Dean had found in the Werther box a month prior was actually a Codex created for the Book of the Damned. He explained that Dean didn’t know about any of this.

Sam had been right – she didn’t like didn’t like this idea. “Why did you even tell me about this?” she asked. “It sounds like you’ve got everything under control.”

“On the contrary,” Sam said, “We need you. Rowena and Charlie don’t get along, at the best of times, and I don’t trust Rowena.”

“With good reason,” Ember said.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “So Cas is babysitting them-…”

Ember’s head jerked toward Sam far too quickly. “Cas is in on this too?”

Sam shot Ember a guilty look that had more than a little suspicion attached. “Yeah, it’s all hands on deck,” he admitted. “But Cas isn’t any more thrilled about it than you are. And Dean’s already starting to suspect something is going on, with as often as I’m disappearing-…”

“I wondered about that,” Ember said. “He said you’ve been gone a lot. I just figured you were doing more research.”

“I have been,” Sam agreed. “It’s just been more of a hands-on sort of situation.”

“So what do you need me for?” Ember asked.

“Relief for Cas and I, as often as you can manage it,” said Sam. “Just make sure Charlie’s okay and happy, and that Rowena is… well, that she’s working, anyway.”

Ember sighed. “I hate this, Sam. You know that, don’t you?”

Sam looked at her. “I know, Ember. I hate it too. But I don’t know what else to do. I know what you’re thinking. It’s what we’re both thinking. I know Dean wouldn’t like it, and I know we’ve been in this situation before…” Sam sighed. “But this is different than with Gadreel, where the only thing at stake was whether I would die, and if I had I would’ve gone to Heaven. This is so much worse, you know that. You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t _try_, and neither will I. It won’t be long, either way….” His voice trailed off, and Ember moved closer to him and hugged him.

“He’s my brother, Ember,” Sam whispered. “There’s nothing I won’t do.”

“I know, Sam, I know,” Ember said.

***Ember POV***

July 13, Evening

Spending more time with Charlie and Sam, as well as doing something to save Dean, almost made up for not telling Dean anything going on. 

In only a week, though, things had gotten even worse. Charlie and Rowena still hadn’t cracked the code, but that was possibly because they spent most of their time fighting. Even Castiel was having a hard time keeping things under control. Ember often had to chaperone Charlie so that she could get a break from Rowena. The Stynes were still hot on the trail of the Book of the Damned, and it was unsafe for Charlie to be anywhere alone.

The night of July 13th was one of these nights. Charlie and Ember were spending time at Charlie’s motel room, the Blackbird Motel, in order for her to get a much-needed break from Rowena. Charlie was huddled in the corner with her computer, and Ember was watching a Doctor Who marathon on TV. “Ember!” Charlie said suddenly. “I think I cracked the code!” She had a big smile on her face. “Come see! I’m emailing it to Sam now.”

“Yeah?” Ember exclaimed, rising to look over Charlie’s shoulder. She was distracted, however, by her cell phone, which began to vibrate.

**Sam Winchester Phone:** Heads up. Styne on loose. Chopped arm off, escaped from bunker. Dean knows.

“Charlie, we’ve gotta leave, now!” said Ember. 

Just as she said this, however, someone started knocking on the door. “I know you’re in here, Miss Asimov! You have it! I want it!”

“Hide!” Ember hissed to Charlie. Charlie picked up her computer and ran into the bathroom, and Ember turned invisible and threw open the door. She recognized the man immediately as a Styne from the security footage Dean had shown her. Without hesitation, she took an angel blade and ran it through his heart. He staggered backwards, then keeled over.

“Charlie, run!” Ember screamed. Together, the two girls made a beeline for Ember’s car. When Ember opened the door and looked backward, however, she saw a man raising a knife over Charlie, who was running away from him and didn’t see him. “Charlie!” she screamed. 

Charlie dodged to the side, and the man’s knife, rather than hitting her in the back, made contact with her upper shoulder. She keeled over onto the ground. 

Ember used her force powers and threw the man backward into a building. She turned invisible and, raising her angel blade again, dodged his wild blow, and stabbed him once more, straight through the heart.

Ember hated killing people… but these were not people… these were Frankenstein monsters.

“Charlie!” Ember screamed. Charlie was unconscious, and losing a lot of blood, but she still had a pulse. Thinking fast, Ember took off her jacket and tied it tight around the wound, as tightly as she could. Using her force powers, she guided Charlie into the front seat of her small car, in a way that she could put pressure on the wound as much as possible. 

With one hand, she dialed Castiel. She wasn’t entirely sure if he would pick up, as he had refused to return calls or texts from her since the previous August. She knew he had been attempting to put some distance between them. Over the past week, however, coordinating the effort to decode the Book of the Damned meant that he seemed to have re-discovered her phone number.

“Cas!” she exclaimed when she heard his usual “hello.” She used force powers to start the car, and force powers to steer the wheel, until the phone was safely lodged between her shoulder and her ear. “Cas, Charlie’s been stabbed. I’ve got her with me, but you’ve got to heal her, and I don’t know how long she’s got. I’m a good hour away from you, I think. Meet me at Shep’s Lodge, okay?”

“I’m on my way,” said Castiel.

Next, Ember got a call from Dean. “Ember! Where’s Charlie?” he asked immediately.

“I’ve got her, Dean,” she said. “She’s been stabbed. I took out two of the Stynes but I didn’t stick around to see if they’re still dead. I’m on the way to Shep’s Diner to meet Cas so he can heal her.”

“On the way,” Dean said, and hung up.

***Sam POV***

July 13, Late Night

Charlie was going to be okay. Castiel had healed her, and put her to sleep. She was currently sleeping in the front seat of Ember’s Cruize. 

It was pouring down rain in the parking lot of Shep’s, but no one seemed to care.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said to Dean, who was looking murderous.

“You could’ve gotten her killed! You don’t get to apologize. I’m sick and tired of Ember needing to clean up all of our damn messes!”

“Ex_cuse_ me?” Ember yelled.

“We were trying to help you,” said Sam.

“I didn't need help,” said Dean. “I told you to leave it alone.”

“What was I supposed to do, just – watch you die?” asked Sam.

“The Mark isn't gonna kill me,” said Dean.

“Maybe not, but – when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore. Dean, you're all I've got. So of course, I was gonna fight for you because that's what we do.”

“Not anymore,” Dean said. “This thing, with Cas, and Ember, and the book, ends now. Shut it down before somebody else gets hurt. You understand me?”

“No,” said Sam and Ember at once.

Dean stared at them, and it looked like he was warring within himself. Sam saw, with horror, Dean’s hands move toward where he knew he kept his demon knife. Then he stopped, turned, and headed back toward his Impala.

“Where are you going?” asked Ember.

“I'm gonna find the Stynes,” Dean said over his shoulder. “And I'm gonna rip apart everything and everyone that they ever loved. And then I'm gonna tear out their hearts.” And then Dean peeled out of the parking lot.

The group was silent for a moment. “Well, what now?” asked Castiel finally.

“Charlie thinks she cracked the code,” Ember said.

The group stared at her. “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” Ember said. “She told me, right before she was stabbed. She said she was emailing it to you.”

Sam got out his phone and checked it. “Yeah, there’s something from her here,” he said excitedly. He put his phone back in his pocket, and looked at Charlie, who was still sleeping in the front seat of Ember’s car. “You’d better head back to the bunker with her,” Sam said. “It’s safest for her there, until we know what’s going on with the Stynes. I’ll head back to Rowena, and see about the code.”

“What about Dean?” Ember asked.

“We uh... we should be able to track him,” said Sam. “I lowjacked the Impala a few weeks back just in case. Cas, would you be willing?”

“Yes,” Castiel said. “I’ll head there now.”

***Ember POV***

July 14, Morning

Early the next morning, Ember awakened to a phone call from Castiel. “Cas? What’s going on?” Ember asked. “Did you find Dean?”

“No,” said Castiel. “I’m at the Styne’s place, in Shreveport. And… it’s awful, Ember. He’s killed them all.”

“…Them … all?” Ember said, wide awake now.

“There’s three in here, and at least a dozen upstairs.”

“Jesus,” Ember said on a gasp. “I should’ve teleported – do you want me to teleport?”

“I wouldn’t bother,” Castiel said. “I already told Sam… his GPS says he’s heading north. He’s coming home.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Charlie left the bunker around noon to meet up with Rowena and Sam, while Ember remained to wait for Dean and Castiel. Finally, late in the evening, she heard a BUMP. It wasn’t from the direction that Dean would come in, which scared her. She went invisible, and began exploring.

The robbers weren’t hard to find. There were three of them, one of which she recognized as a Styne. She had been sure she had killed him… she had stabbed him right through the heart! Still, she decided, he couldn’t survive a beheading, not if Dean had managed to kill his entire family. 

After she had beheaded the man she recognized, the bigger man in the group began to shoot randomly at the air. A bullet would have hit the younger man if Ember hadn’t stopped the bullet in mid-air. Seeing this, the burly man backed up against the wall and yelled, “Ghost, show yourself!”

“Bite me,” Ember said, and forced both men against the wall. “Why are you here?”

“Please don’t kill me,” the younger one said. 

Ember hadn’t paid much attention to him before, but when she looked at him closely, she realized that he couldn’t be much older than high school. “How old are you?” she asked him.

“I’m 16,” he said. 

“Christ,” said Ember. She loosened her hold on him, but didn’t let him go too far from the wall. “Why are you here?” she asked the men again, louder this time.

Still neither man answered Ember. She couldn’t hold them much longer, so she let them both go just a few seconds before she knew her power would give out. As she had suspected, the bigger man went for his gun again. Ember was ready, and shot him in the head.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” she asked the final intruder, the young boy. “_Why are you here?”_

“I promise, I’ll leave, just please let me go. I won’t hurt you.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Ember said. “But _why_ are you _here? _What’s your name?”

“C-cyrus,” the boy said. “Cyrus Styne.”

“And why are you here?”

“We – we were going to – to look for the s-secrets in the bunker, but I didn’t want to go, I ss-wear I didn’t…” The boy was crying now, and shaking. “Just let me go and I’ll – I’ll leave, I’ll -…”

Ember became visible. “You have nowhere to go, child,” she said, sighing. “Your family’s dead.”  
Ember watched the emotions on Cyrus’ face. Horror… relief… disbelief. “That’s impossible,” he said.

“Trust me,” Ember said. “It’s possible.”

At that exact moment, Dean’s shadow framed the doorway. Ember was horrified by what she saw. He was covered in blood, and his eyes were cold. He looked first at the dead Stynes on the floor, then raised his gun and pointed it at Cyrus.

“No no no no no, don't!” Cyrus screamed. “Don't!”

“Why not?” Dean asked. “You're one of them.”

Cyrus was terrified, and Ember wondered if she should intervene. Ultimately, she knew, if Dean shot, she would have to rely on her ability to control bullets. “No. No, I'm not!” Cyrus yelled. “Okay, I hate my family! See, look!” He pulled up his shirt. “No stitches! I'm not like them, I promise.”

“Oh, you are like them,” said Dean. “There's bad in you. It's in your blood. Now you can deny it and you can run from it all you want, but that bad.... will always win.”

“Dean, that’s not how it _works!_” said Ember. 

Cyrus shook his head, close to tears. “I'll do anything you want. Okay, please. You don't need to do this. Please.”

Dean hesitated, finally putting down the gun. Then, in one fluid motion, he shot Cyrus squarely in the forehead. “Yeah,” he said. I do.”

Ember stood there in shock as the boy fell in front of her, as if in slow motion. It had been quicker than she could’ve reacted. When he put the gun down, she’d thought for a second that he had control… now, she realized that he had done this on purpose, expecting her to stop his bullets otherwise. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even breathe… she just simply stood there.

“Dean!” Ember heard a voice to her left, and saw Castiel striding in. “What have you done? You killed him.”

“I took down a monster.,” Dean said. “Because that's what I do. And I'll continue to do that until..”

“Until you become the monster,” said Castiel.

“You can leave now, Cas,” said Dean. 

Ember was in agreement with this option, but Castiel said, “No. I can't, because I'm your friend.”

“Really?” Dean asked. “Well let me ask you something. Do you screw over all your friends?”

“We were trying to cure you! We still are!” shouted Castiel.

“Like hell,” said Dean.

“We can read the Book now,” offered Castiel.

“Oh so what? So you _might_ find a spell that _might_ take this crap off my arm? But even if you do, what's it gonna cost? ' ‘Cause magic like that does not come free. No, it comes with a price that you pay in blood. So thanks, but I'm good.”

“Dean, at least give it a chance!” Ember burst out. “We’re trying to-…”

“_We_?” said Dean. _“We? _Here’s a thought. Why don’t both of you go live happily ever after together and leave me the hell alone! You never would’ve broken up if Castiel hadn’t been _dying_, and he isn’t now. So go _away.”_

A silence fell over the room. Ember looked at Castiel for his reaction, horrified. Castiel, it seemed, had been looking at her, and now looked away. Dean smirked, knowing that he’d struck a nerve with everyone.

“That’s not fair Dean,” Castiel said finally. “I know it’s just the Mark talking right now. It’s changing you.” Ember nodded.

“You're wrong,” said Dean.

“Am I?” challenged Castiel. “Because the Dean Winchester I know would never have murdered that kid.” 

“Yeah well, that Dean's always been kind of a dick,” Dean said flippantly. He made to leave, but Ember and Castiel both stopped him.

“Get out of my way,” said Dean.

“Dean, it’s not safe for you to leave right now,” said Castiel. “You’re not in your right mind. I don't wanna have to hurt you.”

“I don't think that's gonna be a problem,” said Dean. And he picked Castiel up by his lapels and began punching him. “No!” screamed Ember. She joined the fray, but Dean was strong, too strong.

When had he become stronger than Ember? He hadn’t had force powers since he had lost the black eyes, but in melee combat, he had been getting so strong lately… And blood was running down Castiel’s face… And then Ember felt herself flying through the air, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw it. I'm saving Charlie. I've been good and haven't saved anyone since Jo and Ellen.


	48. Brother's Keeper

***Ember POV***

July 14, Early Morning

When Ember awakened, Castiel was kneeling over her. There was no longer blood on his face, but his trenchcoat was covered in it. Ember could only assume that he had healed himself. She felt the tingling she associated with magical healing, and assumed Castiel had healed her as well.

“Ember, are you okay?” Castiel asked.

“No!” she exclaimed. “What the absolute fuck!” She looked around. “Where’s Dean?”

“Gone,” Castiel said seriously. 

“What happened?” Ember said, though she thought she knew.

“Dean sent you flying,” Castiel said with what Ember recognized as poorly contained fury. “And then he ran back over to you, and I thought he was going to hit you again. But then he ran away.”

And then, with sudden finality, Ember realized. “My ring’s gone,” she told Castiel.

“Your – what?”

“My _engagement ring_,” she said fiercely. “He _took it back_..”

“Oh,” said Castiel.

With that, Ember burst into tears. 

***Castiel POV***

July 14, Early Morning

_Damn it._ Ember was crying, _again_. He hated it when she cried. It was the worst thing he had ever experienced, he thought. He had only seen her cry a few times – when she had prayed to him after she killed her client, when she and Dean had broken up, when _they _had broken up. Each time, it was like an arrow piercing his heart.

Deftly, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. His attraction to her was so strong it was overwhelming. There was her supernatural powers of attraction, of course, but it was amplified by the familiarity of hugging someone you haven’t hugged in a very long time, but used to know very intimately. She smelled divine, and with her smell Castiel was flooded with memories of their time together.

And then she was looking up at him, her eyes round and full of tears, but also full of… longing? Was she feeling the same way as him? Surely not. Surely she had gotten over him ages ago…

She didn’t let go, and he didn’t let go either. Her face moved infinitesimally closer, and so did his, as if they could no longer control it. _Was this really about to happen?_

Then they were kissing, and it had been _so_ long, and Castiel was no longer sure where he ended and Ember began. All he could feel was Ember, and she was everything, and _why_ had it been _so long_-

_Dean._ With horror, Castiel wrenched himself away from her. She moved back as well, stumbling backward in her hurry to get away from him. “I’m so sorry, I just-…”

“No, no, it’s my fault, it’s just-…”

“’Been a long night, I wasn’t thinking straight-…”

“No, it was me, I shouldn’t have taken advantage,” Castiel insisted.

“You _didn’t,” _Ember said, leveling him with a challenging glare. “And there were two of us kissing.”

Castiel flinched back, understanding what she was implying. “There shouldn’t have been,” he said. “It was a mistake.” And he left the bunker before he could say or do anything else, wincing at the sound as the large metal door shut behind him.

***Ember POV***

August 20, Daytime

**ONE MONTH LATER**

It had been the worst summer Ember could remember. At least when she’d broken up with Dean (the first time), she’d been mad at him rather than upset with the situation as a whole. And, Sam had been around a lot, as he had been dealing with the whole “Lucifer visions” issue at the time. At least when she’d broken up with Dean the _second_ time, it had been her first summer with the children, and the beginnings of her relationship with Castiel.

This time, Dean had taken the engagement ring and was who knows where, making mischief and being sociopathic beyond his control. Castiel avoided her whenever possible after the kiss they’d shared. Sam was a man on a mission, willing to risk everything they had worked for all of these years to keep Dean out of trouble. Josephine had remained at away college for most of the summer. Krissy and Aidan were extremely disappointed in Dean’s choice to “go demon again”, but, as Aidan was preparing for college and Krissy was going into her senior year, they were both too busy with summer jobs, friends, and boyfriends or girlfriends to pay too much attention to the situation either way.

There were several good parts of the summer, spersed throughout a monotony of boredom. Ember, Krissy, Josie, and Aidan put aside enough money for a trip to Hawaii. Aidan brought his girlfriend along, and Josephine brought along a new boyfriend from college. Ember enjoyed herself, but she couldn’t help remembering Dean’s words a few months previously, right before they had gotten involved with the Book of the Damned and the Stynes. _“We’re due for a win, okay? Overdue. I’ll tell you another thing, if this actually does work, we’re gonna take some time off. And I’m not talking just like a weekend in Vegas or sitting in some crap motel watching pay-per-porn. No, I’m talking about a beach. Drinking cervezas, go for a swim, mingle with the local wildlife. When was the last time any of us was on a beach?”_

Working with Charlie was also definitely a high point of the summer. The two had become close, and when Charlie needed a break from decoding the “Book of the Damned”, they often spent time at Charlie’s new apartment, which was about 45 minutes away from Sam and Dean.

“Cas was around for most of the day today,” Charlie said. 

“I figured,” Ember said. Now that all of the Stynes were dead, Charlie could come and go as she pleased from the abandoned warehouse where Rowena was stationed and the “Book of the Damned” was being held. The spell needed to remove the Mark of Cain had been decoded, but Charlie was still attempting to decode other parts of the book in hopes that there would be some indication of what would happen when the curse was removed. Meanwhile, the group was currently waiting on Crowley to bring the ingredients for the spell to remove the Mark of Cain, which were more complicated than any spell any of them had ever seen before.

Typically Sam, Castiel, or Ember stayed at the warehouse with Rowena 24/7, because otherwise she was prone to attempting to escape, attempting to sneak looks at other parts of the book, or attempting to pick fights with Charlie if she was there. Lately, however, in an effort to avoid Ember, Castiel had been leaving his shift a few minutes early and leaving Charlie in charge, knowing that Charlie would at least tattle on Rowena if she got out of hand.

“You know it’s only because he loves you, right?” Charlie asked.

“I don’t know that,” Ember said. “He won’t even _look_ at me.”

“He’s embarrassed,” Charlie said. “He kissed another man’s woman.”

Ember shook her head sarcastically, holding up her now ringless finger. “You mean the man who threw me across the room and left to go do who knows what with who knows who?” she said, rolling her eyes.

Charlie sighed. “When was the last time he actually talked to you?” Charlie asked.

Ember sighed too. “When we kissed,” she admitted. It was good to talk to Charlie, who was the only person, aside from Ember's mother (and Castiel, of course) who knew about the kiss.

Charlie sighed. “He can’t avoid you forever,” she encouraged. 

Despite the fact that Castiel refused to stay in a room with Ember for more than three seconds at a time, the foursome (Castiel, Ember, Charlie, and Sam) still managed to have an awful lot of discussions about what to do next regarding Dean. Of the four of them, Ember had always been the most adamant that no matter what, they needed to learn the consequences of casting the spell to cure Dean of the Mark before they did so. More recently, Ember was ashamed to admit that she was continuing to help Sam’s crew as much because she feared whatever horrible thing their spell might release as because she feared for Dean’s life and soul with the Mark of Cain. She hoped she could keep control of them, and remind them that Dean wouldn’t thank them for opening Pandora’s box to save him without making a plan on how to close it later. 

Recently, however, she was ashamed to admit that she was losing. Sam became more desperate with each day that passed. Charlie and Castiel were more inclined to follow the strongest voice in the room, which normally was Sam’s. Castiel (according to Charlie, anyway) was easy for Sam to manipulate thanks to his guilt over kissing Ember, not to mention his guilt over still being in love with her in the first place. Charlie agreed with Ember, but didn’t have enough power, strength, or clout in the group to put her foot down effectively. Ember had tried, but secretly she was honestly as desperate as Sam.

Suddenly, the phone rang. “Hey Ember,” said Sam. “I found Dean. He’s in Superior.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember teleported to the bunker, and an hour later she and Sam arrived in Superior, NE. It was difficult to believe that Dean had been so close to home, and yet so far away. He’d trashed his motel room, and left Sam the keys to the Impala, but he was nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, he had gotten a hunter friend of theirs, Rudy, killed on a case. From what Ember could find out, he had been drinking two or three times as much as he had been recently, and had probably spent most of the last month and a half on a drunken bender.

Suddenly, Sam’s phone rang. “Dean,” he said, telling Ember to shush. “Listen to me – whatever you’re doing, whatever you’ve done, please…” Ember waited with hesitation. It was the first time Dean had contacted either of them in a month, and neither of them wanted Dean to hang up if he found out that she was listening and didn’t want her to.

“I saw,” Sam was saying into the receiver. “I saw Rudy… No, that wasn’t you… No.” Sam’s face was alarmed now. “No, you’re not, Dean.” Sam grabbed a pen out of his pocket, and whipped out a card from his wallet. Ember could tell he was writing down an address. Then he hung up. “Dean gave me an address,” he said. “He says… he says it’s time to say goodbye.” 

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember knew as soon as she and Sam pulled up to the address Dean had provided (an abandoned Mexican restaurant) that something was wrong. “Sam, I – I think he summoned Death,” she said.

“Like – the Head Reaper, Death?” Sam asked, aghast.

“Judging by all the reapers standing around… _yeah_,” said Ember. Then something occurred to her. “Wait, Sam… when was the last time you saw Death?”

Sam knew immediately. “When he came to reap me, personally, after the Trials, and Dean talked him out of it.”

“And before that?” Ember asked.

“When-…” he stopped, the same thought occurring to him. “When Dean and I bound him in hopes that he would kill Castiel.”

“Great,” said Ember. “No point going invisible, then. We’re surrounded by reapers, Death can see right through me, and for all we know, Dean can as well these days.”

Dean was in the restaurant, with Death, as Ember and Sam had expected. He looked different, somehow – older, rougher… crueler. His eyes flicked toward Ember, and for a second she thought she saw a hint of light, of happiness, when he recognized her… but then it was gone.

“Hey,” said Sam.

“Sam,” Dean greeted him. “Ember.”

“What is this?” asked Sam.

“We need to talk.”

“Whatever you are thinking of doing, don't,” Sam begged. “There is another way. You don’t need to go with him. You don’t need to die!”

Dean shrugged. “Funny you say that. Truth is, when I left, I thought the only way out was my death. Well, I was wrong, Sam. It's yours.”

“_What?_” said Sam.

“Whoa!” said Ember. “Back the _fuck_ up!” She placed herself squarely between Dean and Sam, and demanded, “Start from the beginning.”

Death began to explain. “Dean has obtained the Mark of Cain, the First Curse. Nothing can kill him. But there’s a reason. Before there was light, before there was God and the archangels, there was the Darkness, a horribly destructive, amoral force that was beaten back by God and his archangels in a terrible war. God locked the Darkness away where it could do no harm. And he created a Mark that would serve as both lock and key, which he entrusted to his most valued Lieutenant, Lucifer. But the Mark began to assert its own will, revealed itself as a curse, and began to corrupt. Lucifer became jealous of man. God banished Lucifer to Hell. Lucifer passed the Mark to Cain, who passed the Mark to you, the proverbial finger in the dike. Dean, here, refuses to share it with another. But he has agreed to allow me to send him to another world, where he can no longer be a danger to himself or others.”

“Wait,” said Sam. “He's gonna... Gonna send you into outer space?”

“No,” said Dean. “Well, he didn't say outer space.”

“This is madness, Dean!”

“Far from it, I'm afraid,” said Death.

“No one's asking you,” said Sam.

“Hear him out!” yelled Dean.

“Our conundrum is simple, Sam. Your brother cannot be killed,” said Death. “And the Mark cannot be destroyed, not without inciting a far greater evil than any of us have ever known. And even if I remove Dean from the playing field, we're still left with you, loyal, dogged Sam, who I suspect will never rest until he sets his brother free of the Mark, which simply cannot happen, lest the Darkness be set free.”

Ember and Sam looked at each other in horror. “You traded my life,” said Sam.

“I'm willing to live with this thing forever, as long as I know that I and it will never hurt another living thing,” Dean said.

“This isn't you,” Sam said. “This doesn't make any sense.”

“No, it makes perfect sense if you stop thinking about yourself for one damn minute!” screamed Dean.

“It's for the greater good,” said Death calmly. “Once you consider that, this makes all the sense in the world.”

Ember wanted to smack him, but her mind was busy frantically scrabbling for an idea that would save Dean. She felt as though she had had the idea, but it had flown out of her head as quickly as it had come…

“Remember when we were in that church, making Crowley human, about to close the Gates of Hell?” Dean said. “Well, you sure as hell were ready to die for the greater good then.”

“Yeah, and, Dean, you pulled me back,” said Sam.

“And I was wrong,” said Dean. “You were right, Sam. You knew that this world would be better without us in it.”

“No, no, no, wait a second. You're twisting my words here, Dean.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “Because we -- we track evil and kill it? The family business? Is that it? Look at the tape, Sam. Evil tracks us. And it nukes everything in our vicinity -- our family, our friends. It's time we put a proper name to what we really are and we deal with it.”

“Wait a second,” said Sam. “We are not evil. Listen... We're far from perfect, but we are good. That thing on your arm is evil, but not you, not me.”

“I let Rudy die,” Dean said. “How was that not evil? I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you --when you drove that man to sell his soul... When you put everyone we know in danger? And to what end? A-a good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the _Darkness_ into the world.”

Ember was silent. There was an idea taking shape, if she could _just_ pin it down…

“You were also willing to summon _Death _to make sure you could never do any more harm,” Sam said. “You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way.”

_That’s it!_ “Wait a minute,” Ember said, and both men, and Death, stopped to look at her. “Why are we being such frigging _idiots?_ Build a prison, made of metal. An indestructible prison. Titanium, or something, I don’t know, with some major Devil’s Trap magic. Find some criminal, some rapist, the worst man on Earth, who deserves nothing but torture. Put him in the prison, and throw him some food every once in awhile if you feel bad for him. Trade off prisoners every few years, or sooner if needed, if one of the prisoners grows powerful quickly, or if we feel bad for them, or if one of them starts to die off and go demon.”

Sam and Dean were staring at Ember in earnest, and Death was looking at her as though he’d never seen anything quite like her. “We could throw a bunch of spells around it,” said Ember. “Cas and I could maintain it after you two pass on. We’d have to watch it closely, and carefully, but it’s got to be better than… better than _this_…”

“Who would you damn to that life?” Dean challenged her immediately.

At the same time, however, Death said thoughtfully, “The plan has merit.”

“It beats this plan,” Sam said.

“Wait,” Dean said, looking at Death with surprise. “It – it _does_?”

“I can’t deny,” said Death, “This would allow me to reap both of you, in the end, and not just one of you. And that is something I sorely desire. I did tell you earlier, Dean, that you had the option of passing it on to another.”

“But-“

“I never told you that ‘other’ needn’t be a man on Death Row, for instance,” Death continued. He looked at Sam and Dean. “Don’t ever let her go,” he told them. “She’s clearly the only one of the three of you with any higher intelligence.” He turned to Ember. “Not that I dabble in your affairs,” he said to her in his drawling voice. “But the angel was a much better choice.”

Then Death was gone.

“What the hell!” Dean screamed. “You sent him away! We had a plan!”

“It sucked!” screamed Sam. “It ended with you on…” he seemed lost for words. “On freaking _Mars_ for the rest of your life, and me dead!”

“You _wanted_ to be dead, only two years ago!” Dean screamed. “_You _were the one who said-…”

“I was _wrong!” _screamed Sam.

They began to charge at each other then, but Ember hit both of them with a blast of force power. Ember had directed most of her force power at Dean, but it made no difference: Sam was blasted upward and skidded back several feet, while Dean remained standing, the Mark of Cain protecting him. They would have to imprison the bearer of the Mark in an incredible sort of cage, Ember thought. Still, she was fairly certain they could do it, with the right resources and people assembled.

They just had to convince the Mark’s current bearer.

Fortunately, as ineffective as the blast of force power had been against him, at least now he was paying attention. “Dean Winchester,” Ember said seriously. “Are you _actually_ telling me, that as much as you’ve done – after saving the _world_, _how _many times – that you deserve to walk around on _Mars_ for the _rest of your life_ more than some murdering rapist deserves to be imprisoned in a box for 40 years? I never took you for a masochist, but maybe you are.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open.

Dean looked at Ember with rage-filled eyes, and he started toward her as though he might strike her… but something else got this attention first. From outside, there was a horrible rumbling. Then, suddenly, the Mark on his arm began to glow red and crackle… until it disappeared. A bolt of red lightning blasted from Dean’s arm through the roof of the abandoned Mexican restaurant. “Aah!” he screamed.

The three of them watched in horror as the Mark of Cain faded away. There was a beat of silence. Sam and Ember both looked at Dean warily. Dean stared back at Sam, his eyes wide and fearful.

Sam broke the silence first. “This is good. Dean, this is good. The -- the Mark is off your arm. Nothing crazy happened.” He held up the keys to the Impala. “You get your baby back.”

Ember gave Sam a “what have you done?” look.

“Yeah,” said Dean sarcastically. “I'm sure everything's perfectly fine.”

Together, the three of them piled out of the abandoned restaurant. A loud crackling sound made them all look up toward the sky. 

“What the h-…” said Sam. The sky was glowing dark red, and several red lightning strikes shot through the air. Suddenly, the red lightning from the sky began to hit the ground all around where Sam, Dean, and Ember were standing. Ember automatically grasped Dean in fear, and he held her closely. She caught his eye, and in it she saw her own emotions reflected – her happiness at the fact that he was rid of the Mark, her anger at whatever Sam had done, because she _knew_ that the group back home was responsible for this – and, more than anything, sheer terror.

“What did death call this?” asked Sam.

“The Darkness,” Ember and Dean whispered together.

The ground began to rumble, and columns of black smoke erupted from the spots where the red lightning had struck. They converged on one spot, across a field from where the brothers and Ember were standing, into a huge rolling cloud of black smoke. Ember, Dean, and Sam looked at each other in fear.

“Get in the car!” yelled Dean.

Ember, Sam, and Dean dove into the Impala just as the black smoke rose over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't changed a whole lot from canon in the general plotline, but in this chapter I changed something major and I hope I'll be able to compensate for it later. I like this better, later, anyway. I hate Billie. She annoys me, and Death is way cooler. Don't get me wrong: LISA BERRY IS AMAZING! I just think Death is WAY COOL. I also think Ember, as powerful as she is, plays a backseat role sometimes just so that I can stick by canon, so that something can happen later that I depend on canon to make happen, etc. But in this chapter Ember gets a chance to truly shine.


	49. Out of Darkness Into Fire, Baby, & Plush

***Sam POV***

August 21st, Morning

“Sam! SAM!” Someone was shaking him.

Sam could feel that he had sustained several injuries. He ached everywhere, especially on his face. What had happened _this_ time?

_Oh, yeah._ Death’s offer. Ember’s solution. The friends he had gathered together to remove the Mark. _The Darkness._

“Ember, what happened?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I teleported out at the last second. I’m sorry, Sam, it’s just, the kids, you know, and I couldn’t-…”

“Ember, it’s okay,” Sam said as he attempted to focus on her face. “You never have to make excuses to us about why you didn’t stay somewhere and die.”

Ember was silent. “Sam, where’s Dean?” she finally asked.

“Dean?” Sam said, finally bringing Ember’s face into focus. “Dean!”

***Ember POV***

August 21st, Morning

Ember was exhausted. She’d come off of a night shift with Rowena, and spent the previous day seeing clients. She’d been planning to get some sleep after visiting Charlie for wine and company, but instead she had been off and running to search for Dean as soon as Sam had called. Finally, the previous night, while Sam had been passed out in the Impala and Dean had been who knew where, Ember had spent the night watching from a safe distance as red lightning attacked the sky, and cursing her teleporting abilities for not allowing her to take others with her.

Even now, searching for Dean, Ember was practically falling asleep standing up. “You should’ve just gone home,” Sam said, watching her.

“Dean,” was Ember’s only answer.

Sam and Ember walked for over a mile before they finally found Dean, passed out on a grassy hill. “Where's the car?” was Dean’s first question upon awakening.

“I-i-it's . . . About a mile that way,” said Sam, as Ember shook her head.

“What?” said Dean, looking curiously at them.

“Seriously?” Sam asked sarcastically. “The -- the Darkness hit. You disappeared. You remember none of this?”

Dean thought about it for a second. “Hold on… She saved me.”

“What? Who?” asked Sam and Ember.

“The Darkness,” Dean answered.

“Wait, the Darkness is a _she_?” Ember asked, a slight note of jealousy in her voice. She was definitely awake now.

“Wait a second,” said Sam. “What do you mean, she saved you?”

“I – I think so,” said Dean to Ember. “You were there. When the storm hit, everything went dark.”

“Yeah, but you just disappeared from the car,” said Sam.

Ember nodded. “And I teleported out, because, you know, the kids, and I couldn’t-…”

Dean looked thoughtful, but he said, “I don't even remember that.”

“Well, I don't remember some woman pulling you out,” said Sam, as Ember threw Dean a put-upon look.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” asked Dean. “I was in the car, and then I wasn't in the car. I was in the field, and she was there.”

“And she told you she was the Darkness?”

“No. She was wearing a nametag. What do you think? She thanked me,” said Dean.

“For what?”

“Setting her free.”

“You didn't set her free,” said Sam. “I set her free.”

“Technically Rowena set her free,” offered Ember tiredly.

“Does it matter?” Dean asked. “I mean, yeah, Rowena said the spell, but I had the Mark, so lock and key.”

“So, what, now she feels indebted to you or something?” asked Sam.

“I don't know,” said Dean. “She's The Darkness. Does she feel anything?”

“And that's all she said? Thanks?” asked Sam.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “She was weird. But she had this energy about her, this -- this focus.” Ember was glaring at Dean as though she might explode him with her mind. “But, yeah, not a talker,” Dean finished.

“So we know jack,” Sam clarified.

“Well, we know what she looks like, and we know that she's evil,” said Dean. “The question is, what does she know? I mean, she's been locked away since the beginning of time. Does she even know what a cheeseburger is? All I know is that we set her free, and we're gonna put her back in, no matter what it takes.”

Ember felt slightly as though she was suffering from whiplash, as her fatigue again hit her in full force. Just the thought of another case, another adventure, made her feel too tired to take another step. “Guys, I’m gonna… look, you guys are both safe, so…”

Sam and Dean looked at each other. “She hasn’t slept in 3 days,” Sam told Dean. “She wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Dean turned to Ember. “Go home, Ember,” said Dean. “No, go to the bunker, it’s closer. You won’t have to stop and recover your powers halfway.”

“The bunker?” Ember asked. “You’re sure?” Was she really welcome there? Did he really _want _her there? He had gotten angry with her, after all, because she had tried to remove the Mark of Cain, and thrown her across the room…

Dean walked over to her hesitantly, and then pulled her into his arms. “Ember, I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for everything that’s happened. And we’ll talk later about… about everything. But I _love_ you, and I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Ember looked up at Dean, lost for words. “I… love…”

“I know,” Dean said. “Can you make it to the bunker?”

“Yeah,” Ember said tiredly. “’s only 45 minutes. ‘Could teleport there in my sleep.”

“I’ll see you in 45 minutes,” said Dean. And he kissed her. It was a sweet kiss, a very short kiss, but Ember understood it’s meaning. _I’m here, if you still want me._

Five minutes later, Ember’s head hit the pillow, and she knew no more.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

When Ember finally awakened again, it was nearly 13 hours later. Neither of the brothers had returned, but both were reachable by phone. Dean explained that they’d been stopped on the way out of town by a group of people which seemed to be infected by what sounded like a zombie virus. Dean was convinced it was related to the Darkness. Dean further explained that he was 40 miles outside of Superior, and would spend the following day taking a woman he’d saved, and a baby, to the grandmothers’ home in Cedar Rapids, IA. 

“I can teleport to Hastings,” Ember said. “Do you want me to catch up with you there for the night?”

“I do,” Dean said, “That would be amazing. But Cas is in trouble. He called us, and he said ‘What I have, you can’t help me,’ whatever that means. And he said that Rowena escaped with the ‘Book of the Damned’ and the Codex.”

“What?!” Ember screamed, jumping up in a panic. “Any idea where he is?”

“Well, I can’t imagine Rowena got the Book and the Codex without putting up a fight, so he’s probably hurt. If we’re lucky, he won’t have gone far. Will you look around and see what you can find?”

“Yeah,” Ember agreed, worry for Castiel flooding her system. 

“Thanks,” said Dean. “I love you. Even though I know I’ve been an ass.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The next evening, Dean and Sam still weren’t back. Things had developed, Dean said. He had caught a few hours of sleep and been halfway home when Jenna, the woman he had saved in Superior, had called to tell him that the baby was showing signs of being possessed. Now, he was heading back to Cedar Rapids. 

Meanwhile, Ember had struck out completely in looking for Castiel. She found some farmers who had seen him, and stated that he had seemed “like a rabid dog.” Ember could only assume that Rowena had cast some sort of beast spell on him – she’d seen it once before, when Rowena was trying to get away. After the farmers, however, the trail went cold. She’d come home to check on Krissy, as it had been her first week as a senior in high school. Now, she was hungry, tired, upset, and heading back to the bunker again to sleep.

When she arrived at the bunker, however, she found Castiel, half-passed out in the doorway.

“Help me,” he told her in a low voice.

“Rowena’s beast spell?” Ember asked him. He nodded. It seemed as though every movement cost him energy and strength, but also as though he was holding back something horrible.

“Chain me up,” he said. “I’m – I’m trying to fight it, but I don’t know how long I can fight it for.”

Ember nodded. “But not in the dungeon, okay? I’ll get some angel chains and bring them out here.”

Castiel nodded.

***Castiel POV***

August 22nd, Night

Ember emerged with chains from the dungeon. “Don’t – don’t come any closer!” Castiel said. 

She stopped short, looking at him questionably. “The – the beast spell is just getting – um, your smell agitates it,” Castiel admitted, lowering his voice to almost a whisper and reddening.

Ember blushed, but dared another step closer, looking concerned.

Castiel froze. “Just – just send the chains over here, and I’ll put them on most of myself, and you can do the rest,” he commanded. 

He did, and once he had chained himself up as much as possible, he finally permitted her to finish the job. When he was good and chained, she sat down in front of him.

“You should leave,” he told her.

“Why?” she said, challenging him.

He decided not to dignify that with a response. She smelled _so _good, and the beast spell wasn’t helping. His senses were mixing together. He couldn’t tell if he wanted to grab her and screw her into oblivion, or tear her to shreds. Grab her, tear her clothing to shreds, and then screw her into oblivion sounded like it was probably the best option.

She looked like she was considering something. Finally, she said, “Are we ever going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Half of him wanted to screw her and/or tear her to shreds, and the other half wanted her to get the hell away… and she wanted to _talk?!_

“The kiss!”

Kissing sounded really good right now… _No!_ “What’s there to talk about?” he questioned gruffly. “It was a mistake. It never should’ve happened, and it was no big deal. You’re with Dean. I’m an angel. End of story.”

“Fine,” she said, her face becoming unreadable. “If that’s the way you feel about it.” She seemed to be probing for something, but in his addled state he couldn’t figure out what it was. Finally, she said, “If it wasn’t a big deal, you’d think you would be… I don’t know… _civil._. You haven’t even _looked _at me since it happened.”

He felt like he had said something wrong, but he wasn’t sure what. She was with Dean. He basically wanted to attack her. Any discussions about kissing were probably bad. _Civil._ She wanted him to be _civil._ Right. “I’ll try to be… civil,” he said, looking up at her through a haze of desire.

This was a bad idea. The beast inhaled another smell, and he could feel his lower anatomy tightening and his teeth baring, all at the same time. He needed her to go away. He couldn’t kick her out of the bunker – not when it was practically her home. He shouldn’t have come here in the first place, but he’d been hoping to see Dean, not her. “This – this spell Rowena cast – it’s probably going to kill me anyway.”

“Yeah,” she said, obviously annoyed. “You said that _last _time.” It was a mark of the fact that she could tell that he _was _serious that she didn’t stalk away and slam the door – Castiel could tell that, even in his addled state. Instead, she said, “I’m going to go try to research what to do. I’ll let you know if I find something.”

***Ember POV***

August 23rd, Night

Ultimately, it was August 23rd before Sam and Dean returned to the bunker. It was late at night before Ember and Dean finally had some time alone to talk in Dean’s room.

“Ember,” Dean said, “I can’t even start to tell you how sorry I am. Truly, there aren’t words. I-…”

Dean looked at the ground. Finally, when he had collected himself, he sat down on the bed again, and gestured for her to sit down next to him. “Ember, I’ll be honest with you. It’s all been too much. I just want to crawl in bed with you and sleep, and maybe have some pie and get laid, if I’m lucky. But I have no right to ask anything of you. Ever again. I don’t know if you want to still be… if you can _ever _forgive me for everything I’ve done… I’ll try everything I can to make it up to you…” He looked at her hopefully.

Ember smiled at him. She thought briefly of Castiel, but once again she banished the thought. Castiel didn’t want her; he had (yet again) made that abundantly clear. She wasn’t even obligated to discuss their kiss with Dean, because technically Dean had broken up with her before it occurred. 

Still, Dean was, and always had been, supportive of her, and of the children, aside from the Mark of Cain. They could start over, now. They could take things slower, without the threat of the Mark looming over them, and without Ember constantly wondering about Castiel’s feelings, or what said feelings might have been if Castiel’s grace wasn’t failing. Perhaps someday she might even tell Dean about the kiss… right now, though, she didn’t think he could handle it, and she didn’t want to throw yet another wrench in their already complicated relationship.

“I understand why you took on the Mark. I do,” Ember said. “We never could’ve taken down Abaddon without it, and you didn’t have time to find out more, and things just got… confused.” While she had been speaking, he had pulled out the engagement ring, and was twisting it between his fingers. She understood the question he was asking, without actually asking it. “I love you, Dean. But - let’s just… be _us_ for awhile, okay? I mean, there’s always something. First it was the Apocalypse, and then Sam’s soul, and then the Leviathans, and the trials, and then the damned Mark, and now the Darkness… but nothing has ever been as bad as the Mark. There’s no… you’re not gonna die tomorrow, you’re not gonna become a demon. The pressure’s off, so… let’s just enjoy each other for a bit longer. Okay? We can start fresh.”

Dean thought for a second, and finally reached out to her. “Okay,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Then Dean kissed her, the sweetest of kisses… but it didn’t stay sweet for long.

***Dean POV***

August 29th, Evening

Things were good, for the first time in a long time. Not _great_ – his brother, girlfriend, and best friend had released “the Darkness”, and he had an extensive list of people he owed exponential favors and groveling – but _good._ His brother was whole and in one piece. Ember was back in his arms again, even if they were no longer engaged. They’d managed to get the Codex back from Rowena, if not the Book of the Damned. “The Darkness” was a baby, and she was with Crowley, which at least gave Dean a little time to figure out what to do next. (As much as Dean hated that Amara was with Crowley, at least it meant that Dean could play the “bromance” card if absolutely necessary. Plus, ever since they had given Crowley human blood, he had been less intent on world domination and sadism and more intent on simply running Hell like a business, if he bothered to run it at all.) Finally, just today, they’d manage to track down Rowena long enough to cure Castiel of the bestiary spell she’d put on him.

Granted, Dean had sustained several blows to the face in the process, but relatively speaking, he was _good._

“You should keep applying that,” said Sam, pointing to the cold compress in Dean’s hand. His brother threw him a beer.

“Thanks, mom,” said Dean sarcastically. 

“Dean, I... There aren't words,” said Castiel, looking sadly at Dean’s face. Dean knew how his friend felt - it would be a long time before he stopped feeling guilty for the things he had done while under the influence of the Mark.

“You're right,” he said. “There aren't words, Cas, 'cause there's no need. You were under a spell. It's fine.”

“Yeah, but you had Rowena. Because of me, you...”

“You know, Cas, we've got the Codex,” said Sam. “That's a start. You know, it'll slow Rowena down some. If we’d killed her, the Book of the Damned would've been lost.” 

“Besides, we got bigger fish to fry,” said Dean.

“The Darkness,” Castiel said. “What does she want?”

“Well, the big question is, where the hell is she?”

Castiel gestured toward Dean’s face again, looking tortured. “Dean, I can fix that.”

“No, no, no. No, no. It's fine, Cas,” Dean said. “Besides, I had it comin'.”

No, things weren’t _great_, but they were _good._

***Dean POV***

October 18, Evening

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Things were still good. Actually, things had been kind of boring, but Dean felt that he had needed a little relaxation. 

Nothing had been heard about The Darkness for two months. On the contrary, things were _too_ quiet. Castiel said that both Heaven and Hell were trying to figure out what to do about The Darkness. Dean and Sam had had the occasional case involving a vampire or werewolf, but even these were few and far between. Ultimately, Dean had picked up a seasonal construction job in Conway Springs, and was spending most of his time there with Ember.

This week was the exception, as Sam had caught a case in Oregon. Halfway there, they had stopped at a bar, where Dean had spent the night drinking. He had kept his promise to Ember to keep his drinking to a minimum, but occasionally he still liked to go on a bender, particularly at times when she wasn’t around. Sam had spent the night in the Impala with a waitress from the bar.

“Man, I needed that,” admitted Sam the next evening. Dean had spent the day kidding him about his “night moves”.

“And hey, look at that, you're finally not a virgin anymore. But you know what? I think it was time. I respect the fact that you, uh, you know, you wanted to stay true and pure and waited.”

“Yeah, you know what? You -- you're an idiot.”

“Even put a blanket down,” Dean said, gesturing to the back seat. “Buddy, classy and thoughtful as always.”

“I tried to give her my number,” Sam said. “You know what she said?”

“"We got tonight. Who needs tomorrow"?” Dean guessed.

“Is everything a Bob Seger song to you?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Dean said.

Sam sighed. “It was nice knowing you, Piper.”

“Piper?” Dean said. “That's awesome. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we're lucky we still get laid at all.”

Sam laughed. “Speaking of which, what’s up with you and Ember?” Sam asked. “Are you ever gonna propose again?”

“Don’t know,” said Dean. “I was thinking maybe in March if things keep going well… it would be the anniversary of when we first got together.”

“Look at you, being all sentimental,” Sam kidded him.

“Hey, man,” Dean said. “She lets me do what I do. Her kids think I’m a superhero. And for some reason, she’s still around. And not to mention this thing she does, with her tongue-…”

“She’s like my older sister!” Sam exclaimed. “I do _not_ want to know!”

“Fair enough,” said Dean, laughing. “Okay then, tell me more about _Piper._”

Dean had never told Sam this, but these conversations in the front seat of the Impala with Sam or with Ember were the best times of his life. He’d explained this to Ember once, a very long time ago. He wondered if, if he did die and go upstairs, his personalized Heaven would be something like this.

***Ember POV***

November 28, Evening

**ONE MONTH LATER**

The Darkness, Amara, finally surfaced near the end of October. She had grown up into a young adult, feeding on souls and leaving behind soulless husks. Crowley was no longer able to keep control of her, though he was trying. The first time Ember, Dean, and Sam met Amara, she swatted them aside as though they were flies – except for Dean, whom she showed interest in. “It’s because I saved her, she says,” Dean said again. “She thinks we have some sort of… bond or something.” Though he wouldn’t admit it to Sam, he confessed to Ember that he felt supernaturally drawn to her. “Intellectually, I know what she did, and who she is,” Dean said. “But I feel like she’s almost…” he looked disgusted. “Like a sister. Who needs to be protected, and cherished.” Still, Amara’s bond didn’t have complete control over Dean – he had tried to run at her with a knife, after which he had been shoved aside as well.

On the up side, it didn’t seem as if Amara was wholly evil. Castiel was able to locate Metatron, who was human now, and found out more information about her. “In order to create the world, God had to sacrifice and betray his only kin,” Castiel explained. “The Darkness… his sister.” 

“Something she said… It sounded to me like she wanted revenge on God,” Dean said. 

“Maybe so,” Ember said, “But even if that doesn’t automatically mean ending _the world_, it could mean killing a lot of people in the process.”

Either way, Amara had to go.

Meanwhile, Ember had other concerns. Krissy had decided that she wanted to be a hunter, and was refusing to go to college. After several long conversations, however, she compromised and agreed to work toward a criminal justice degree, under the condition that she remain living at home so that she could accompany Ember and/or Dean on one case per year effective immediately, two the following year, and a number which increased exponentially every year after. 

“You sound like Sam when he was younger,” Dean told Krissy after she had pleaded her case and the three of them had signed an agreement contract. “You might want to skip Criminal Justice and go into law.” In response, Krissy had flipped him off. “Hunting lesson one: Don’t point that finger at me!” Dean yelled after her.

Three days after Ember’s 34th birthday, the perfect case came along. “It’s probably just a cursed object, and there’s three adults involved,” Ember reminded Dean over the phone. Krissy was driving and Ember was in the passenger seat, and they were on their way to meet Dean and Sam before heading out to Minnesota. “I mean, come on. A murderer wearing a bunny mask that won’t speak, and nobody can get the mask off? It’s definitely one of the more comical cases we’ve had. We’re not going to get a better opportunity than this.”

“I hate taking kids hunting,” Dean said.

“I hate taking _my_ kid hunting,” Ember said, giving Krissy a hard look. “But she’s going to college. And she’s 18 now, we can’t keep her out of the life for much longer if she’s this determined to be in it.”

“Exactly,” Krissy hurumphed.

The case went south almost immediately. Before they were able to determine whether the bunny mask was cursed or not, the police were forced to shoot the boy wearing the mask when he assaulted an officer, despite his handcuffs.

“This is crap,” Krissy grumbled. “We didn’t get to save anyone. The guy wearing the mask got shot. All we got to do was burn a dumb mask and watch Dean fight off a giant bunny.”

“What, you thought all of our cases were fun?” Dean snapped at her. “This is why we didn’t want you hunting. It’s not all saving people and fighting monsters. A lot of it is _death_, and worrying about the people you love, and more _death_. You’re lucky this was a milk run.”

Krissy was quiet after that, but she refused to look at Dean or Ember for the remainder of the evening. 

The next day, Krissy awakened and dressed in silent fury. This changed quickly, however, when Sam got a call explaining that a person in a jester mask had attacked the football coach at the local high school. And just like that, the four of them were off and running.

In the end, the masks turned out to be a case of ghost possession. The ghost was a man by the name of Chester, who had sworn revenge on the two men who had accidentally killed him. Sheriff Hanscum, a friend of Sam and Dean’s who had called them, managed to burn most of the masks Chester possessed, but the last one was put on by Chester’s young nephew Max.

It was a group effort from there: Chester threw Dean against the wall, but Krissy got him immediately with rock salt. Together, the four of them burned the mask.

“Nice job,” Dean said on the way home.

Krissy gave a shy smile, but Ember could tell that the compliment meant everything to her.

Ember looked at Dean, who rolled his eyes at her, but quirked a smile. “At least we don’t have to take her again for another year,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I went through a bunch of episodes at once, because none of these were long enough to warrant their own chapter. First of all, I hate zombies, so that's a "writer's choice" matter. I just can't get into the zombie stuff. Also, I feel like this story is long enough already and I want to get to the good stuff and not get bogged down the parts of the story that Ember doesn't really change. I re-did the Castiel section about 3 times, so let me know if you like it!


	50. O Brother, Devil in the Details

***Ember POV***

January 8, Morning

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Christmas was a festive affair. Josephine and Aidan came home, and all three kids celebrated Christmas with Ember, Sam, Dean, Charlie, and Castiel at the bunker. The only small blight on Christmas remained that the nine of them knew that somewhere Amara was getting stronger, and they were out of ideas on how to stop her.

Almost.

Sam had been getting visions of Lucifer’s cage, which he stated occurred every time he prayed to God for help. Dean and Ember were both surprised that Sam was even bothering to pray to God. They were also firmly against Sam’s suggestion to seek advice from Lucifer. 

Finally, on January 8, a fully grown Amara struck down a religious worship group, for no apparent reason, sparking an argument in the bunker the next morning.

“How many times do I have to say that this is a horrible idea?” Dean was yelling at Sam when Ember walked into the kitchen.

“About as many as I have to say, okay then what else have we got?” Sam screamed in his turn. “Listen, I’m all ears. Dean, ordinarily I’d agree with you, but the visions only happen when I reach out to God. I asked him for a way to beat the Darkness and the visions got more specific – and I was in the Cage.”

“Yeah, with Lucifer,” Dean said. “The biggest monster ever hatched. Fan-freaking-tastic!”

“Lucifer was the biggest monster ever hatched, until you and I hatched one that’s even worse,” Sam pointed out.

Dean turned to Ember. “Are you agreeing with this?” he demanded of her.

“Ok, ok, ok,” Ember said, sitting down and pouring herself some cereal. “First of all, who says it’s God giving you messages? How do we know it’s not actually Amara herself, getting you out of the way? We don’t have all of the information yet. Must we learn this lesson _again_?”

“Listen, in the vision, Lucifer touches me and I feel calm, like things will be all right,” Sam said. “And that’s not something I would ever come up with. I mean, that is the _last_ thing that I would ever feel.”

“And that makes you think this is a _good_ idea?” Ember said sarcastically.

“If Lucifer touched you, it would be the last thing you think. Ever,” said Dean. He got up from the table, looked longingly at the whiskey, then got up to get himself a regular beer instead. “Why would God even ask this of you? What proof do we have that any of this is actually real?”

“There was a burning bush,” said Sam.

“A burning bush?”

“Like in the Bible.”

“You were in the forest,” said Dean. “There are bushes there and sometimes they burn!”

“Do you know how many monsters we’ve met that could cause a burning bush?” said Ember. “Probably like at least a fourth of them. Didn’t that angel burn up a bush when he was getting tortured?”

Dean sat back down and opened his beer. “You know what man? Maybe there is something to it all, and maybe there’s not.”

“Doesn’t it make sense though?” Sam said imploringly. “I mean, Lucifer would know how God ended the Darkness. He was there.”

Ember sighed. “Look, if you’re dead set on this, fine. We’ll find out more.”

That evening, the three of them, along with Charlie, summoned Crowley. “There may be a way,” he said. “Clearly, if Sam enters the Cage, he’s gone. And yes, it’s on my bucket list, but now is not the time to be selfish.”

The group rolled their eyes. “We’ll need a secure site, a way to neutralize Lucifer’s powers,” Crowley continued, “So that we have a modicum of control… Theoretically it’s possible, with challenges. I can arrange for transit into Hell. Opening the Cage, that’s another matter.”

“You’re the King of the joint. Don’t you have a key?” asked Dean.

“It was sealed by God Himself,” snapped Crowley. “Of course I don’t have a key. The mechanism is of divine manufacture. I believe its secrets, along with the spells for warding, were recorded where many such mysteries are found – the Book of the Damned.”

***Sam POV***

January 18, Daytime

It took a little over a week, but Crowley’s demons were finally able to find Rowena. She agreed to work with them, even if the truce was shaky at best. 

During that time, Amara managed to slaughter another group of people in a church. Ember and Dean went to check it out, while Sam stayed back on what Dean referred to as “witch duty.” Finally, however, Rowena announced that she had found what they needed, and she was ready to go to Hell. 

As he had promised, Sam called Dean to tell him it was time to attempt the trip downstairs… but Dean did not answer. Instead, Ember called back. “Sam? I can’t find Dean anywhere.”

“_What?”_ he asked, alarmed.

“He said he was going to the hot dog stand,” said Ember. “But that was 20 minutes ago. I’ve looked everywhere, and he’s not picking up his phone.”

“We’ll keep trying him,” Sam said. “Can you teleport?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Ember said. “Give me a sec.”

***Ember POV***

January 18, Afternoon

Ember had some trust issues with Dean. She supposed she got them honest, between the vampire debacle, the attempt on her memory, the decision to allow Gadreel to possess Sam, and finally the Mark of Cain. Still, Ember _did _trust that he would pick up the phone, particularly at a time like now, unless he absolutely couldn’t. 

Ember had to assume, therefore, that he _couldn’t_ pick up the phone. There would only be two reasons for this: one, he was in trouble, or two, he was with Amara. Since Amara had been responsible for the devastation of the church, the later was actually the more likely. Had she still been around? Had he sensed her somehow? Was this why he had ditched Ember in the middle of a case to get a hot dog? Ember thought it was likely. Hell, if it had been the other way around, she would’ve done the same thing. Amara had already shown that of the three of them, she certainly liked Dean the best. Judging from the glances Sam was sneaking in her direction, he was thinking along the same lines.

Despite Dean’s absence, Rowena, Crowley, Sam, and Ember had begun their descent into Hell. The plan was incredibly complex. Crowley took them to “the furthest reaches of Hell, Limbo, where I send unruly souls for time-out.” Rowena then painted a number of sigils on an empty cage, which (theoretically) would keep Lucifer trapped.

Finally, Rowena began the task of calling Lucifer into the new cage. Ember looked at Sam’s face, and was surprised to see unadulterated horror. Did he recognize his surroundings? He had spent 120 years in Lucifer’s cage. She knew he remembered it all, though the memories no longer caused him hallucinations like they used to. She realized she could never truly appreciate what it must’ve cost him to come back here. _Where was Dean?_

Finally, with the end of Rowena’s spell, fire surrounded the cage. Sam jumped, shrinking back into the shadows. Ember took his hand.

There was Lucifer, his red eyes gleaming in the shadow. “My old friend, Crowley,” he said in a drawling voice. Ember felt Sam’s hand twitch in her own, and she realized Sam had yanked them back into the shadows far enough that Lucifer couldn’t see them.

“A mere acolyte, carrying your torch,” said Crowley.

“You’re too kind... to yourself,” Lucifer said sarcastically. “What do you want of me?”

Slowly, Sam dropped Ember’s hand, and stepped into the light. Ember followed him, though every fiber of her being was telling her not to. She grabbed his hand once more.

Lucifer smirked, and Sam squeezed Ember’s hand tighter. “Half-demon,” Lucifer said, giving Ember the once-over. “Don’t you look good enough to eat?” 

“Blow me,” Ember said.

“And Sam Winchester,” Lucifer whispered. “My old roomie. Hug it out?”

Sam and Ember continued to look at him crossly, and Sam was shaking slightly. Ember had never seen Sam like this, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I gotta say, I’m a little in the dark about this meeting,” said Lucifer. “Am I up for parole? Time off for bad behavior?” He laughed. “I don’t really get visitors.”

“If it weren’t for the crisis top-side, you wouldn’t be getting one now,” Sam said finally. His voice wasn’t shaky, but firm.

“Crisis?”

“You’re aware of the Darkness?” asked Sam.

Lucifer inhaled sharply. “Yikes, that doesn’t sound good. Um, I’m aware of what she was, but that was eons ago.”

“She’s been released,” said Sam. “So now she’s somewhere, or everywhere, on earth.” Sam’s words, though he had started out strong, had become somewhat unsure.

“However did that happen?” asked Lucifer in a voice that said quite plainly that he knew everything.

“The point is,” said Sam, “She poses a threat to all that exists, including you.”

“Hmm,” Lucifer said. “That leads me to my next question. Where’s the big burrito himself? Where’s God in all of this?”

“All current indications of his presence are that there are no current indications of his presence,” Sam said, still squeezing Ember’s hand.

“What?” Lucifer said. “Caught the fun bus out of town? Figures.”

“But, recently, he has reached out to an interested party.”

“Who?” asked Lucifer.

“Me,” said Sam. “He answered my prayers.”

“Did he now?” asked Lucifer. “And, what was Dad’s suggestion?”

“To seek out you,” admitted Sam.

Lucifer laughed. “Get outta town! Seriously? Who’d have thunk it?” He thought for a moment. “I completely get why you came to me. You can’t ignore God, right? God says jump, everybody says ‘how high’?”

“So, does this mean you’re on board?” Sam asked. Ember raised her eyebrows.

“Well, I did help Dad seal up the Darkness all those years ago,” Lucifer admitted. “She’s quite a force. Determined to take over everything, even back then. Prone to tantrums. I can see why Pop is laying low. Now that sis is here, God’s not the only circus in town.”

“Is she equal to him in power?” Sam asked. Ember was pleased to note that he sounded less scared now that he was questing for answers.

“Raw power? Sure,” Lucifer said. “But she’s got none of the experience. God is a master strategist. That’s why you’re here.”

“And why is that?”

“Oh, because God needs me to help put the cat back in the bag,” said Lucifer. He laughed. “He can’t do it by himself. Seen that movie.”

“And?”

“And, I need a ride out of here,” said Lucifer. “I mean, I look swell in here and everything, but I’d be so much smoke top-side.”

“You want a vessel,” said Sam, glancing at Ember.

“One who is strong enough to hold me, handy, and available now. Catch my drift?”

“Did you really expect me to agree to this?” Sam said accusatorily

Lucifer nodded, smiling.

“So, what?” Sam asked angrily. “I just disappear while you take my body and set loose on the world again?”

Lucifer nodded, smirking. “I know. I know, Sam. It’s a lot to ask. But desperate times require desperate measures.”

“That’s not desperate! That’s certifiable!” yelled Sam, and Ember agreed with him fully.

Lucifer pointed at Sam. “Okay, hold on there a second cowboy, take a breath. You have been working with Crowley. You passed certifiable three off-ramps ago. And look, I’m no fan of the ruler of the Universe, but here I am, ready to pitch in. Sam, why do you think God sent you to me? To get my help, which I only now just offered. Sam, your visions were the Word of God. You can’t say no to that.”

“I can,” Ember said with a protective look at Sam. She stepped forward, though she didn’t let go of Sam’s hand. “_No._ We’ll think on your offer, and come back. _Not._”

“There has to be another way,” Sam agreed, and he and Ember turned to leave, Ember looking backward over her shoulder.

Suddenly, the spellwork on the cage began to fade, and the fire around the cage began to die. Then, without warning, Sam and Ember were both in the cage with Lucifer.

“Together again,” Lucifer intoned to Sam.

Sam backed into a corner of the cage, terrified. Ember went invisible and followed him, attempting to shadow him with her body. Sam, in contrast, attempted to get around her invisible form. “That doesn’t work on me, you know,” Lucifer said, staring right at her.

“Hey, Sam Winchester,” he said, his eyes moving past Ember to stare at the struggling figure behind her. “Did you miss me? I bet you did. I have to say, you’re extraordinarily calm given the circumstances.”

“Well, it’s pretty much exactly how God told me it was going to be,” Sam said. He had stopped struggling. Ember had become visible again, and he was still attempting to shield her with his body, from behind her. He was so tall it was partially working. “Guess I just have to go with it and play my hand.”

“Well, that would make so much sense if it was God that was doing the talking,” Lucifer said. “You see Sam, when the Darkness descended, the impact on Hell was massive. The Cage was damaged. Through the fissures I was able to reach out. It wasn’t God inside your head Sam. It was me."

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Okay, you don't like me. I get it,” Lucifer said ten minutes later. The two of them had been in this cage for 10 minutes now, with Lucifer attempting to weasel his way into their hearts and minds. Ember no longer stood in front of Sam, but next to him, holding his hand.

Lucifer was a master manipulator, and she could tell he was really starting to get to Sam… but she wasn’t having it. “I get it,” Lucifer said again. “Sometimes I don't like me either. But Gabriel and Raphael are dead. God went out for a pack of smokes and never came back... and Michael... well, let's just say prison life hasn't really agreed with Michael. These days he's usually sitting in a corner singing show tunes and touching himself.”

“So you're it?” asked Sam, ignoring Ember’s warning look in his direction.

“I'm it! And hey, I'm not the good guy, we both know I'm not, but the Darkness, she's the end of everything.” Lucifer crouched down next to Sam. “But I can beat her. We can beat her. You and me, together. So come on, Sam. Make the right choice, the big sacrifice one more time, man. Sam, it's time to save the world, man.”

“I’d like to say that line of thinking has kicked us in the face too many times to think that way, but clearly it hasn’t,” Ember said, tearing Lucifer’s attention away from Sam. “For starters, he came to _your_ cage asking for help with ‘the greater good,’ and you _drug him in with you_. So sorry… are you somehow implying that him becoming your vessel is in some way ‘choosing the world?’ After you save the world from the Darkness, who saves the world from you?”

Lucifer seemed to regard her as a nasty fly that needed to be swatted away. He stood up, slowly, and came to stand in front of her. “It was a bad idea for you to come down here,” he taunted. “You _do_ know I could bring out your demon side so fast you’d think you’d always liked random fornication and frequent smiting.”

Ember tried not to look scared. “We both know I’d kill myself before I let that happen again,” she said, readying her force powers. “And you’re not strong enough to kill me while you’re in here.”

“No, that’s true,” Lucifer agreed. “I don’t want to kill you either. I’ve always said, you’re far too interesting to kill. But right now, I’m trying to have a conversation with Sammy, here.” Then Lucifer touched her head, and Ember knew no more.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember found out later that Crowley had worked a deal with a reaper to get a witch collar to collar Rowena and force her to put Lucifer back in his cage. Dean and Castiel, meanwhile, had come to rescue them, and (of course) also ended up caught in the cage.

When Ember woke up, it was to the most bizarre scene she’d ever withnessed. She was in the cage with Lucifer, Sam, Dean, and Castiel. Most of them, with the exception of Lucifer, were bloody and beaten. She heard, oddly, a song she recognized as “Heaven Must Be Missing an Angel.” She also recognized the tingling feeling of having been recently magically awoken. “Help us!” Castiel was screaming as he launched himself at Lucifer. 

She understood: Castiel had awakened her so that she could help fight. Just as she thought this, Dean flew backward away from Lucifer, landing almost on top of Ember. Ember flung herself up and hurled as much force power as she could at Lucifer, but he only laughed. “That doesn’t work on me… it tickled, though. You’ll have to go farther toward your demon side than that.” 

Lucifer kicked Sam in the stomach, and then grabbed Dean around the neck and slammed him against the bars of the cell. Dean grimaced as Lucifer lifted him off the ground, choking. He looked at Sam. “Alright Sam, I’m gonna make this real easy for you. You say the magic word or your brother dies... and we both know you won’t let that happen.”

Castiel and Ember both charged at Lucifer then, allowing Dean to get out of his clutches. Lucifer caught Ember across the face, and she flew across the cage, hitting her head on the bars like Dean. Meanwhile, Lucifer had picked up Castiel and begun punching him repeatedly. Ember heard Lucifer say, “Any last words?”, but wasn’t sure who he was talking to.

Then, suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light, and Lucifer was gone.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“So what now?” Sam asked the group ten minutes later. Ember, Dean, Sam, and Castiel had emerged from Lucifer’s cage, all of them beaten and bloody. Dean and Castiel had filled in Ember and Sam on the way back to Crowley’s work room. 

“About the Darkness?” Crowley asked. “No clue.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean said, shooting a reassuring look at Ember.

“Or die screaming,” said Rowena sarcastically.

“This has been a horrible train wreck, so we’re done,” Crowley said. “Team up over.”

“What about her?” Sam asked, gesturing toward Rowena.

“She stays,” Crowley said. “The rest of you lot... get the hell out of Hell.”

The bedraggled group emerged on the street five minutes later. “You alright?” Dean asked Castiel.

“I think so,” said Castiel. “I will be.”

“You want me to give you a lift?” Dean asked.

“No, you two go on ahead,” said Castiel. “I’ll catch up.”

“Okay,” said Dean, heading off toward the Impala. Ember stayed behind. “Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked her old boyfriend. “Something seems… I don’t know. _Off._” She couldn’t shake the feeling that Castiel had been quiet on the way out of Hell… _too _quiet. 

More importantly, this was the first time in months that Castiel had allowed his eyes to betray any real emotion when he looked at her. Though he had been civil, as promised, on the few occasions they’d spoke over the past few months it was as though he constantly wore a mask around her. Was he afraid she would come on to him again? Now, however, he was looking at her with a strange sort of… longing, almost… hunger.

Just as quickly as Ember had seen the look, however, it was gone, and his eyes turned sad. “Really, Ember,” he said. “I’m fine. I just miss…” he trailed off, then seemed to shake himself. “I miss when things were less complicated.”

Ember smiled sadly at him, her heart thumping suddenly and unexpectedly. Had he been about to say “I miss you?” 

“I’m fine,” he said. “I expect I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, Cas,” Ember whispered, and, finally, she turned around to go say good-bye to Dean so that she could teleport home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stayed with me! I hope you liked the twist about Demon Ember, and the twist that's about to occur in the chapter after this one. I knew from Day 1 that I wanted these two twists to occur, and so I had to keep a lot of things canon in order to get where I am now. Shortly you'll see a lot more divergences from canon probably. PLEASE REVIEW! Reviews make me SQUEEE!


	51. Love Hurts

***Dean POV***

February 15, Morning

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Dean wasn’t typically one to worry too much about his love life. He had never had a shortage of women who wanted him. Ember had been one of a very select few girls in his life that he had been interested in for more than just sex, and she had certainly been the only girl he had ever even considered marrying. Even with Ember, however, he had typically focused far more on saving people and hunting things than he had on her. (Perhaps this was part of the problem.)

Now, for the first time in his life, the difficulties in his love life related _directly _to the hunt. First, he hadn’t been honest with Ember. He’d told her his bond to Amara was more sisterly, but really it was pure attraction. 

More important even than honesty with Ember, _why_ was he attracted to Amara? He had never seemed to be particularly attracted to crazy girls, or at least not _especially_ attracted to them over _non-_crazy girls, and he definitely wasn’t the type of guy with a fetish for supernatural forces. He had to assume, then, that his attraction to Amara was like Ember’s demon attraction – entirely supernatural, with no real substance. 

So, he put it out of his mind. It wasn’t like he’d be doing the nasty with her anytime soon anyway. He really just wanted her dead.

***Ember POV***

February 15, Evening

Valentine’s Day had been beautiful. It hadn’t been expensive, but it had been special in its own way. They had gone skiing in Denver, Colorado. It was still very “Dean Winchester” – a crappy motel instead of a ski lodge, and a lot of cheeseburgers and pie, but Ember preferred his style over superficial ski lodges and expensive food like cavier anyway.

The day after Valentine’s Day was a Sunday, and Dean and Ember were just waking up in the Colorado motel when Sam called to say he had found a case.

Dean looked at Ember apologetically, his eyes dancing with curiosity. Ember smiled. “Mind if I tag along?” she said, smirking. “It’s been a month since I was in the field, and that ended up in Hell – _literally_. I’m short on client hours the next couple of days, and I haven’t taken time off in for_ever_.”

Dean gave her a wide grin: it had been decided.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“This roughly translates to the kiss of death,” Sam said two days later, poring over some lore.

“I swear. She never told me that,” said Melissa. Melissa had sought out Dean and Sam after her dead husband came to kill her. The day before that, said husband, Dan had been killed by the dead babysitter, Stacy. The day before that, when the case began, Staci had been killed by Dan – or, at least, someone who looked like him.

Sam and Dean’s first guess had been a shapeshifter, but in the end Melissa had admitted that she had bought a spell from a “white witch.” “A return to love spell,” she had said. “All I had to do was chant it and seal it with a kiss. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I swear. I just wanted my husband back.” 

Ember chuckled under her breath at the irony. Instead of getting him back, she had accidentally given him the “kiss of death.” If it wasn’t for the guilt, she’d probably be better off in the end, however – her husband had been cheating with the babysitter..

“What does the lore say?” asked Dean.

“There is no lore,” Sam said. “My best guess is that this is the white witch’s home cooking.”

“Terrific,” said Dean. “Alright, so what do we know? Um, you kiss someone, then they die.”

“I guess,” said Sam. “Wait a second.” He looked at Melissa. “You didn’t kiss Stacy?”

“No of course not!”

“No, but Dan did,” said Dean.

“So the curse is transmittable?” asked Sam.

“Like a magic STD,” Dean guessed. “Okay that works. Kinda makes you nostalgic for good old fashioned herpes.”

“Oh God,” said Melissa. “I killed Dan _and_ Stacy!”

“You didn’t kill anyone,” said Sam, as Ember nodded. “This is all on that witch.”

“Riddle me this,” asked Dean. “Why did Stacy die first if she was kissed second?”

“I don’t know,” said Sam. “Maybe you’re safe if you can pass the curse on?”

“And then if that person dies then it comes back to you?”

“I mean that would make sense. It would explain why, whatever this is, is working its way back to Melissa,” said Sam.

Just as they finished their conversation, there was a giant clatter. Dan (the monster) was breaking through the window! He was closest to Sam, but he threw Sam aside. All 6’4” of Sam crumbled against the wall with a clatter and lay motionless, barely stirring. Dean and Ember acted at once. Ember threw a blast of force power toward Dan, and Dean unloaded an entire clip into his belly. The monster was entirely unfazed by the gun, and only barely fazed by Ember’s force powers. It reminded her of facing down Alastair, or the siren, so many years ago. She knew she could only hold the monster at bay for a few seconds before it bared down on Dean.

Sam was stirring in the corner, but he wasn’t moving fast enough – he wouldn’t get to them in time. Then Ember saw Dean. “I’m about to make a decision that’s probably going to get me dumped!” Dean screamed at Ember.

Ember saw what Dean meant. He had grabbed Melissa – he meant to kiss her, to take the curse for himself, long enough to distract the monster so they could get away and regroup. It had worked for her, with Castiel, so many years ago, and for completely different reasons…

“Just do it!” Ember screamed.

Then several things happened very fast. Dean kissed Melissa. The monster stopped. Ember fell backward when her force powers were suddenly met with no resistance. Sam hit the monster over the head with a chair.

Sixty seconds later, they were all scrambling into the Impala.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Alright, got it,” said Sam an hour later. They were in the hair salon, attempting to look for something belonging to Melissa’s hair dresser that might give them some sort of clue as to what they were fighting. “It looks like we’re dealing with a Qareen.”

“Never heard of it,” said Dean.

“It’s a creature, corporeal in form. A slave to your commands.”

“Like a genie?” Ember asked.

“I guess,” said Sam. “Here we go. Someone chants a curse, lays a wet one on you, then the victim is seduced and killed by the Qareen, but instead of taking the form of Barbara Eden, they present themselves as your deepest, darkest desire.”

“Makes sense why the sitter was killed by the husband. The husband by the sitter,” said Sam.

“Yeah,” said Dean. “And why Melissa was attacked by Dan. She really loved him.”

Dean laughed.

“What?” said Sam.

He’s looking forward to making out with Daisy Duke,” Ember said, rolling her eyes. “I still say I should take the curse.”

“No,” said Dean. “And I still say you should avoid this entirely and head back to Kansas. It’s too dangerous. End of conversation. Again.”

Ember ignored him, and let the subject die. Normally, she would’ve fought harder to get Dean to give her the curse, being the stronger of the two of them. Normally, she would’ve kissed him when he wasn’t paying attention, or perhaps even used her force powers. Unfortunately, she was too scared that if she did so, an angel in a trenchcoat might show up to kill her.

Castiel had had his chance, and Ember wouldn’t allow her residual feelings for the angel to ruin what she had now. So, she shut up.

“Alright, how do we kill it?” Dean was asking.

“By stabbing it in its heart,” said Sam.

“Well, given that it has a giant hole in its chest, does it even have a heart?” asked Dean, looking at the book Sam was holding.

“Apparently not in him,” Sam answered. “The person who holds the Qareen’s heart is the one who commands it.”

“So Sonja the hairdresser,” said Dean.

“Alright, let’s find us a heart,” said Sam. “I’ll take upstairs.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Sam left the room, and Ember found the corner opposite from Dean and started looking around.

“Why don’t you go upstairs with Sam?” Dean asked.

Ember looked at him strangely. They never separated on a hunt when the other might be in trouble. “Dean…”

“Or… you know, maybe you’re right,” he said suddenly. “Maybe you should take the curse. I’ll watch your back.”

Okay, this was _really _weird. “Dean?” 

Then Ember saw her. Walking into the room was a woman that Ember had never seen before, yet she recognized immediately. “_Amara!” _Ember said. “You… Amara?!?!”

But Dean did not seem surprised to see her. In fact, he shot Ember a look that was clearly full of guilt, and dread.

“I understand Dean,” said the fake Amara. 

Dean stood his ground and readied his knife. “Is that right?”

“The longing in your heart, I feel it too.”

Dean’s hand inched toward his knife. Ember, finally recovering from her shock, moved her own hand toward her knife as well. “Well that’s touching,” said Dean. “Considering that you don’t have a heart. Qareen.”

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” the monster said. “The real question is who are you?”

“What do you mean who am I?” asked Dean.

“You’re a mystery,” said Amara. “I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it’s cloaked in shame. When it comes to this, you can’t help yourself, so why fight it. Just give in.” The words felt like a dagger to Ember’s heart. _Well, at least he’s ashamed of it._

“Yeah,” said Dean. “You know what? You’re right. The real Amara does have a hold on me, but you? Are nothing but a cheap imitation.” The monster attacked, and Dean evaded her. Ember used her force blast again, which slowed the monster down somewhat, enough for Dean to move to the other side of the room. Ember let the monster go once more… and then the monster screamed, and disappeared.

“Dean!” Sam yelled from upstairs.

“Yeah!”

“So. I got it.”

“Yeah,” said Dean, looking wearily at Ember.

She looked at him, and at the guilty look on his face. _He lied. Again. _What had he been doing? What was this tie to the Darkness that he had never been able to properly explain? What had they done, while Sam and Ember had been in Lucifer’s cage, in Hell?

A second later, she was gone.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

In hindsight, Ember realized that the fact that Castiel was the only person she knew who could truly give her advice about supernatural attraction was not actually why she prayed to him. In the moment, however, she was able to convince herself that this was a good idea. Dean had lied to her – _again!_ “Like a sister,” he’d said. She was fairly certain he wasn’t actually _involved_ with Amara, if such a thing were even possible. Still, she felt that not admitting to her that he desired _God’s sister_ was a fairly large oversight.

“Cas, I don’t know what to do,” she said to the air as she sprawled across her bed in Conway Springs. “Dean is in love with Amara – _Amara!_ And he didn’t tell me – _again!_ Do you have any -…”

Ember’s phone rang.

“Ember,” said Castiel’s deep voice. “I’m close by, actually. Do you have a teleportation spot in Wichita?”

“Yeah,” Ember said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember met Castiel in an old diner in Wichita. She couldn’t help wondering what she was doing. It had started off innocently enough. She had been upset. The more she thought about it, however, the more this seemed petty. Was she really going to whine to her ex-boyfriend about her current boyfriend? Was that really fair? For the first time ever, she cursed her teleportation abilities for getting her places so quickly, and Castiel for being so close. Perhaps if she’d had to make the drive to Wichita, she would have thought better of it and returned home already.

Plus, who was she to judge Dean for not telling her about Amara? She hadn’t told him about Castiel – about her on-going feelings for the angel, or even about their kiss last year… 

Still, she rationalized, there was no way that kiss could’ve made the difference between life and death for several million people, nor had it been with a cosmic being whose power was equal to or greater than God Himself. Honestly, she and Dean hadn’t even been _together _when she had kissed Castiel, because it had been right after Dean had given her the ring back and left. Plus, she rationalized, it had been _Castiel _who had asked _her_ to come here in the first place… _Castiel needs to know_, she decided finally. _Dean wouldn’t have told him about Amara, and he needs to know._

“What happened?” Castiel asked, arriving in the diner. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, but she knew his car must’ve been outside. “Tell me everything.” Ember felt her heart speed up, as it always did around the angel. There was something _off _about the angel, though – something she couldn’t put her finger on, though she recognized it immediately. 

Ember explained, from start to finish, what had happened.

“So Dean’s deepest, darkest desire is Amara?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah,” said Ember. She was wrestling with her emotions – anger at Dean, and at the situation, residual attraction to Castiel, and guilt for calling Castiel in the first place. She tried to pull herself together and focus on the task at hand. “So… I just figured I’d let you know. I, um, probably shouldn’t have gotten so upset about it, but I figured you would need to know, and I know Dean wouldn’t have told you.”

Instead of bidding her good-bye, however, Castiel stared at her strangely with a look that she couldn’t decipher. “You said he’s been close to her before… what happened during those times?”

“You know as much as I do, Cas,” Ember said. “I mean, he definitely tried to attack her with a knife during one of them, I saw that, but… I mean, he’s been with her for so _long_, before, and he wasn’t answering the phone while Sam and I were in Hell, and -…” Castiel was looking concerned, and Ember suddenly felt like crying. It was the closest she’d been to him in almost a year… did he care? Was he affected? She bit the inside of her lip to avoid the tears. She never should have come here.

“Have you talked to him since then?” Castiel asked, putting his hand on her arm.

“No,” she said, looking down at his hand in surprise. “I don’t really know what to say.” She took an infinitesimal step away from him, despite her desire not to. Once again, she tried to collect herself, willing away the urge to cry. “I know the attraction is supernatural,” she said. “I don’t know if he even has a choice, you know?” She looked at him awkwardly. “I just, um… figured you needed to know.” She turned away from Castiel, once again ready to bid him farewell. She had been here too long already. She needed to work things out with Dean.

Castiel caught her by the arm. “Ember… how are _you?”_

“What – what do you mean?” she asked.

Castiel put his other arm on her other arm, looking her squarely in the eye. “He should’ve _told you_. He should’ve told _all of us._ He’s put us in danger by not doing so. How many times have you and Sam confronted her, without this vital piece of information? I know Dean loves you, but he’s put you at risk by not telling you. And I don’t like that.”

Ember had turned fully, and was now staring Castiel in the face. Suddenly, she was extremely uncomfortable. If it had been her mother or Krissy, perhaps this speech would’ve been fine. But coming from Castiel, the speech was making her uncomfortable. Ember felt herself going on the defensive. “Cas… I mean… I guess he just thought… I mean, he _did_ go after her with the knife that time, so he has _some_ control over it… And _I _never told him about… about the kiss…” She looked downward, unable to meet his eyes. She was embarrassed. She never should’ve come here. This was getting more awkward by the minute, and she’d let her emotions run away with her.

“The kiss was none of Dean’s business,” Castiel said vehemently. “He’d given you back the ring. You weren’t even together at the time.”

Ember looked at Castiel, surprised once again. On the single occasion they had discussed the kiss since its occurrence a year previously, Castiel had refused to look at her. Now, however, he was looking into her eyes with a hard look that was unmistakable hunger… and anger.

“And Amara was practically a child the last time you all faced her,” Castiel continued vehemently. “She’s _God’s sister_. You have _no idea_ her power, and neither does Dean. What would’ve happened the next time you faced the _real_ Amara, at full power? Dean was being reckless and irresponsible.”

_Wow_. Castiel was legitimately angry. In a short speech, he had touched on everything wrong with Dean, everything wrong with their entire relationship. All of the doubts Ember had had over the past two years… or had it been longer? Ember couldn’t help it – she began to cry, despite biting her lip so that she wouldn’t. Castiel immediately pulled her into his arms, and held her there for some time.

When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes again. There was that look again… _hungry_. It surprised her, scared her even, but not as much as his next words. “Ember,” he said quietly. “Tell me this. Who is _your _deepest, darkest desire?”

Something turned over in Ember’s stomach. “Cas, I-…” She couldn’t look away. She should run, she knew she should run, but she couldn’t bear it, not again. And then Castiel’s lips were on hers, and she was soaring, flying-

But something was wrong. Something was horribly, _horribly_ _wrong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was rewritten 2 or 3 times, particularly the part Casifer part. I didn't want to make Ember seem like she was whining to Castiel, or that she was dependent on Castiel to solve her Dean problems... more that she had a weak moment which Lucifer more than took advantage of. An explanation about this new development will come in later chapters. Let me know what you think in the reviews! And thank you for everyone who has stuck with me - it took awhile to get here, to this culmination of plot twists. So much had to stay canon so that this could happen, so after this there will be a lot more diverges.


	52. The Vessel, Hell's Angel

***Dean POV***

February 18, Morning

“Nothing yet?” Sam asked Dean.

“No,” Dean said, skipping coffee and grabbing a beer from the fridge. “She’s still not picking up the phone. Krissy said she was home last night, though, for a little while. But she won’t answer me.”

“You’d think she’d understand,” said Sam. “I mean, she should understand better than _anyone_, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. He knew Ember well enough to know that it was more likely that she was upset because he hadn’t told her about his attraction to Amara when he had had the chance, rather than because of the attraction itself, but he didn’t say this to Sam. 

“Well, you’ll make up,” Sam said. “She probably just needs a little space. Meanwhile, I found us a case. Maybe. Check this out.”

***Sam POV***

February 18, Afternoon

Sam wished Ember were around, but she wasn’t answering her phone… even for him.

She wasn’t answering texts either, which was extra weird.

Still, Sam had other problems. Castiel and Dean had embarked on a journey to get the Hand of God, a supernatural relic said to wield great power. It had been sunk on an American submarine during WWII, so Castiel had sent Dean back in time to retrieve it.

As was usual for the Winchesters, the plan had almost immediately gone awry. Castiel was supposed to accompany Dean, but he had been kicked off the submarine almost immediately by angel warding. Now, they were looking for a way back so that Dean could get home.

“Wait a second. I think I have something,” said Sam finally. “The spell of gathering, it's an incantation used to focus the power of celestial beings, angels, against all drawn forms of evasion. The spell is designed to clear all mystical or occult blockages. I mean this is highly theoretical magic, it's never been used before, but it sounds like it could work.”

“And the ingredients?” asked Castiel.

“Uh…” But as he read the ingredients, Sam’s heart sank. “All but one. That's why it's never been used before. It requires the power of an archangel.” He shut the book in anger.

Castiel, however, looked thoughtful. “Well Sam, we may as well try.”

“We don't have time for long shots, Cas,” said Sam. “Even at full power you're not strong enough.” Dejected, he walked away to look for more literature.

When he came back into the room twenty minutes later, however, Castiel was cutting up ingredients and putting them into a metal bowl. “Hey. Cas, what is that?”

“It's your spell of gathering,” said Castiel.

“Are you nuts?” Sam said, alarmed. “You're not strong enough, Cas! You could get hurt!”

“You find a better option?”

“Well, no,” Sam admitted. “But… without a serious boost to your angel power, that spell won't even work!”

“My strength may surprise you,” said Castiel.

“Wait a second,” said Sam. “I remember Bobby told me when you needed strength to retrieve us from the past, you used him to power up. You touched his soul, right?”

“That's right, I did that,” said Castiel, still cutting ingredients. “But that procedure can be fatal.”

_This could work. We could get Dean home, and get the Hand of God._ “Use my soul,” Sam said earnestly. “That way maybe you'll have enough power to wield the spell.”

“That isn't necessary,” said Castiel.

“It's worth the risk,” Sam argued. “Cas, Dean needs our help. I trust you.”

Suddenly, Castiel began to laugh. It was a long and creepy laugh, and it made the hair on Sam’s neck stand on end. “What?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, it's just - I don't need you anymore.” Sam looked at Castiel, horrified. Even Castiel’s voice had changed. Something was _terribly _wrong. “I mean, Dean's the one with the link to Amara. Why have I been trying to spare you? I mean, maybe it's because you're like the girl who kept turning me down at the prom.”

_No._ And just as a horrible thought occurred to Sam, he felt himself be slammed against the bunker’s support columns.

“I will touch your soul,” Castiel said in his high, creepy voice. “Just because you asked so nicely. And I'll use your spell to blast through the warding and retrieve Dean and the uh, Hand of God, and then when Dean comes back and he finds this place decorated with your guts, I will tell him the truth, Sam. I'll just say, 'Dean -…”

At this point, Castiel switched back to his own deep voice. “… Dean. He knew the risks. He wouldn't take no for an answer.'”

Sam knew, now, who he was speaking with. “Lucifer.”

“In the flesh.” Sam watched, horrified, as Lucifer put his hand inside Sam’s stomach. And then Sam lost consciousness.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Sam was in horrible pain. He didn’t think much time had passed since – _Lucifer._ Castiel fell to the floor beside him, and Sam scrambled backward.

“Sam, it’s me,” said Castiel’s deep voice.

“Cas?” Sam asked. “Why?”

“I wanted to be of service to the fight,” said his friend. “And only Lucifer can beat her.”

“You chose this?” Sam said in horror. “You have to fight, Cas! Eject him now!”

“I can't! It's taking all my strength to keep him from killing you. And besides, we need him!” 

“No Cas, we don't!” said Sam. “We'll find another way to stop Amara!”

Castiel shook his head. “We need him to save Dean.”

“You can't time travel,” said Sam.

Castiel shook his head again. “Only Lucifer can. Listen. And this is very important. Ember-…” And here, Castiel grimaced. “The Demon Bond. Again.”

Comprehension donned on Sam, with horror. “But how? Lucifer’s not-…”

“Archangel,” Castiel said, gritting his teeth to get the words out. “Made… demons. Can do whatever-…” Castiel grimaced again, abandoning his speech. “You need my blood,” he finished. He pulled a flask out of his pocket, his hand shaking, and cut his hand, his blood dripping into the flask. He gave the flask to Sam, who pocketed it, and then Castiel disappeared.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. _He was gone… _but what about Dean?

Suddenly, Castiel and Dean reappeared in the room. Sam didn’t hesitate. “Dean - THAT'S NOT CAS!”

Dean stared at Sam, then at Lucifer. A sheepish, gleeful look crossed Lucifer’s face. “Cat’s out!” he yelled. He threw Dean across the table, and Dean landed on the floor on the other side, against the wall.

“I feel a burden lifted,” said Lucifer. “You know, this whole, deep cover thing… it wasn't terribly well thought out. Donning this - this Cas mask? This grim face of angelic constipation? It just - ugh. And then, teaming up with you two. I mean, I thought you boys were insufferable as mortal enemies, but working with you.” He shook his head. “That's the soul crusher.”

Sam made a small movement, his hand going toward a knife in his back pocket. The movement drew Lucifer’s eye, but instead of the knife Lucifer saw the flask in Sam’s front pocket. “Thanks for reminding me,” he said. At Lucifer’s bidding the flask with Ember’s blood in it came loose and spilled on the floor. Lucifer immediately vanished the contents.

“NO!” screamed Sam.

“What was that?” asked Dean.

Lucifer smirked. “Ask your girlfriend,” he said. “Oh, _wait.”_

Sam heard a horrified, choked sound from the opposite side of the room, and knew that Dean had understood.

“Why the faces, boys?” Lucifer asked. “You should be cheering. We have a common enemy. With the Hand of God, Amara will be no problem. I mean, I will have killed you both by then, but still. Come on.”

Lucifer held up the Hand of God. “NO!” Dean screamed.

Lucifer closed his eyes and waited for the effects of the power to come, but nothing happened. Sam cut his hand with the knife, and began to draw the angel banishing symbol on the wall, unknown to Lucifer. 

“It’s kicked!” Lucifer screamed angrily, and Sam and Dean both let out a sigh of relief.

“Well. Who'd've thought the Hand of God would turn out to be a one-hitter?” asked Dean.

Lucifer tossed the Hand of God onto the table, and angrily advanced toward Dean. Sam finished the angel banishing symbol and touched it hurriedly, however, and Lucifer disappeared with a yell of rage.

There was a beat. Dean looked slowly at Sam. “What did he mean about Ember?” Dean asked his brother. 

“A Demon Bond,” he said to his brother sadly. “I… I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean looked at him, stunned. “But that’s – Lucifer’s not a demon!” Sam could see panic setting in.

“Castiel showed up for a second earlier when Lucifer was trying to kill me. He said... because Lucifer _made _demons…” 

Sam started over, trying to think it out. “I mean, I suppose Lucifer was the one who came up with the whole ‘Demon Blood Bond’ thing in the first place, so he would know how to invoke it. As long as he had the right v-….”

But Sam didn’t finish the sentence, because Dean let out a scream of fury. Without looking at Sam, he picked up the vanquished Hand of God off the table and hurled it at a glass statue on the top of the bookcase. The statue shattered into a million tiny pieces, but Dean was already gone.

***Dean POV***

February 18, Evening

“Are you sure this will work?” asked Sam.

“No,” Dean said. “It won’t work if she doesn’t want to show. But the ritual will work, yeah. I mean, I guess. She’s a demon now, isn’t she?”

“I think so, yeah,” Sam agreed. 

“It worked on her and me both when we went dark before.” He determinedly avoided Sam’s eye. Instead, he concentrated on the incantation. _“Ember, venit coram me…”_

Ember appeared suddenly. She wore jeans and a belly shirt, with long hoop earrings. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders, and her eyes flashed black. She looked bored. “Dean Winchester,” she said cruelly. “I wondered when you’d figure it out.”

“Ember, please,” Dean said.

Ember gave Dean her best simper, and moved closer to him. “You’re going to make me do this in person, aren’t you? Or else you’re planning some sort of…” she rolled her eyes. “_Rescue_ mission…” Her eyes flashed quickly to Sam, who was just as quickly thrown at the wall, where he was held, frozen.

Meanwhile, Ember moved closer to Dean. “So, look, Dean, it’s been fun, but… you’re kind of no fun anymore. I’m not gonna kill you, obviously, ‘cause… well, like before, my human half gets really shitty when I do that, and frankly I just get tired of the nagging.”

Dean could feel pressure on him, and realized that he, too, was frozen against the wall. Ember was bearing down on him, and she was so close now that if he had been able to move, he’d have been able to draw her blood with no effort. “My human half was so hurt, so… angry, about your deepest desire being Amara… but I wasn’t even willing to admit my _own_ deepest desire...not really. But guess who I called immediately afterward? And _whoops_, it looks like we erased only _one_ of my two possible demon bonds.”

Ember’s eyes flashed black again for a second, and she moved even closer to him. Her arms climbed up his torso, and his anatomy responded against his will. She was _so _sexy, even though he was terrified, both for her and himself. Then she whispered, “Do you know what it’s like to have sex with an angel, Dean?”

She backed up slightly, just enough to see the hurt, enraged look on his face. She smiled to herself. “You could try, maybe. That might be fun.” She moved closer to him once again, this time rubbing herself on him. She leaned in and bit his earlobe. “Do you remember what it feels like, Dean? This freedom? This freedom… with me?” 

But suddenly, she cried out. Charlie had come with a knife and a flask, as was the plan. Dean had known that Ember would expect Sam and Dean to be attempting to collect her blood… but Charlie would be unexpected. Charlie’s knife had hit home, and blood had spurted out from where Charlie had unceremoniously sunk the knife into Ember’s back. Ember gave a yell, and backhanded Charlie, who slid across the room, unconscious. Dean was temporarily unfrozen as Ember was distracted, and caught the flask, half full of dark red blood. 

Dean just barely managed to cork the flask before Ember rounded on him again. She dove for the flask, but it was warded, and she dropped it with a hiss as it burned her hand.

Dean was once again frozen to the wall, and Ember advanced on him, a snarl marring her pretty face. “That’s no matter,” she said. “You’ll never catch Lucifer.” She gave him a twisted smile. “Speaking of which, did you know I kissed Cas? Not just after I found out about Amara, but before that, too. Right after you threw me across the room. It seems I _always_ go running to Castiel when it _really_ matters.” And with that, she turned on her heel and disappeared.

Dean and Sam both ran toward Charlie, but she was already stirring. “I’m okay,” she said softly. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” said Dean. “I’m going to go get some pie.” And with that, he pocketed the flask and left the bunker, slamming the door on his way out.

***Dean POV***

April 5, Afternoon

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Truthfully, if Ember _had_ been at his side, she would’ve been ashamed of the way he was spending his days. He was around occasionally for the children, of course, but Krissy was 18 and more or less self-sufficient on their own. For the most part, Dean drowned himself in alcohol, lore, and more alcohol.

They had attempted to summon Lucifer like they had summoned Ember, but he never showed. Dean knew they would need something to bribe him with, to force him out of the shadows. Finally, in the beginning of April, Crowley had the answer. “A weapon,” he promised over the phone. “One that channels divinity. Powerful enough to destroy a force like the Darkness.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Sam, now!” Dean yelled.

Sam lit a match and dropped it onto the holy oil, which lit into a ring of fire around Lucifer, trapping him. Lucifer smirked and looked at Sam. Dean saw a look of sheer terror on his brother’s face.

“I’m sorry,” said Lucifer. It was so strange, Dean thought. He looked like Castiel, but his mannerisms were unlike Castiel in a way that was creepy and revolting. “Your prayer implied that I'd be... joining the team, but I'm just not feeling the warm and fuzzy here.”

Dean and Sam glanced at one another. “Wow,” Lucifer said, noticing the Horn of Joshua that Crowley had found. “There it is. Powered up by Dad himself. Well, that bad boy plus me... That ought to take her out all right.” He clapped and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do it. Douse the flames.”

Neither Winchester brother moved, nor did Crowley. 

“Or… don’t?” Lucifer said, snapping his fingers impatiently.

Dean cut his hand and pressed it against the wall. Lucifer started to shake.

“Cas!” Dean said. “Show yourself!”

“Dean?” Castiel said in his own low voice.

“Cas,” Dean said quickly. “Before anything else, it’s Ember.”

Castiel began to shake then, but he shook his head. “I gave my blood. She -…” 

“Lucifer destroyed it.”

Castiel wasted no time. He cut his arm, dripping blood into Dean’s waiting flask. The moment the blood was in the flask, however, Castiel began to shake. 

“Cas! Cas, listen to me!” Dean shouted. “We don’t have a whole lot of time, okay? You’ve got to-…”

But Castiel was already gone, and Lucifer was laughing with glee. “Oh-hoo-hoo-hoo! Whoo! Uh, he's got to what? You boys, ooh, you almost had me there for a minute, but these mail-order spells... they're just not what they're cracked up to be, are they?”

“Cas, expel him!” Dean said, pocketing the flask. Once again, it was plastic, and sealed with wards. “You’ve got to kick Lucifer out! Do you hear me?!”

“Honestly, I think he's happy with the arrangement,” Lucifer said. “I mean, he did invite me in and all, Dean.”

“Cas!” Dean shouted again, but Lucifer only mocked him. “Hand over the weapon. What do you say? Or we can just wait for this warding to fail and I'll take it.”

Just then the spell-work began to die and the warding began to fail.

“Bloody hell,” said Crowley. And with a puff of red smoke, he left his meat-suit and flew into Castiel.

Dean and Sam wasted no time. Dean pulled out both vials from his pocket, one with Castiel’s blood and the other with Ember’s, and Sam pulled a bowl out of his backpack. They mixed the two together, then dumped the solution over Castiel’s head. “_Solvite haec animarum. Liberum ipsi manebimus!”_ shouted Sam.

Castiel was shaking, and his eyes rolled up in his head, but Dean couldn’t be sure if this was from the dissolution of the Demon Blood Bond or the war that raged inside his head.

“What the hell are you waiting on?” shouted Rowena from the corner. Dean gave her an annoyed look – he had honestly forgotten she was there. “Look!” she shouted suddenly, pointing at Crowley. A message had appeared, burned into Crowley’s forehead: **HELP ME**.

Dean looked at Sam, and Sam grabbed a cross out of his backpack, holding it up to Lucifer. _“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas...”_

Meanwhile, Dean tossed holy water onto to Lucifer. Finally, red smoke exited from Lucifer, and Crowley (as they knew him) opened his eyes once more, gasping. “Useless,” he finally said. “Lucifer's hold on him is too strong.”

“Lads, the fire!” Rowena cried, as the fire holding Lucifer went out.

But it was too late. “Trick me?” Lucifer said, opening his eyes. “You lied to me. You know, I could have been your warrior.” He smiled. “Ah. Who needs ya? Well. It's just like Crowley to leave right when the party's getting started. Have a seat.” And suddenly, Dean found himself forced to sit. He looked at Sam, who was suddenly sitting as well. “As much as I get a giggle out of you two, and I do, there comes a time when every relationship has... run its course,” Lucifer said. “So...” 

Dean felt himself begin to choke. He began to struggle and gasp for breath. He was going to die. He was going to die, never knowing if Ember was safe…

Suddenly, there was an explosion, and a gaping hole appeared in the church. Dean was able to breathe again suddenly. When he had collected himself, he looked, terrified, to realize that Amara had blown a hole in the wall.

“Oh, Lucifer,” she said, entering slowly through the hole she had made. She looked just like he remembered her: powerful, and seductive, and terrifying in her flowing black dress that looked somehow like robes. “Dear nephew, my, how you've changed. I was tracking her when she left my side.” Amara pointed to Rowena.

“You were safely sealed away,” said Lucifer. “You're gonna wish you'd stayed there.” He held up the Horn of Joshua, and it glowed red as he absorbed its power. Dean wanted to look away but felt powerless to do so. Lucifer’s eyes turned white, and he conjured a ball of fire into his hand, aiming it at Amara.

There was a blinding white light, and Dean thought sure she must have been obliterated. When the light began to dim, however, Amara was still standing there, seemingly untouched. She lifted her hand and drew Lucifer effortlessly toward her. He dropped the Horn of Joshua, and she cupped her hand on his face. “I think you and I need to have a nice, long chat,” she said.

Then, in a ball of white light, they were gone.

Dean and Sam looked on in astonishment, the room suddenly silent.

The silence was broken, however, by Dean’s phone, which began to ring. It was Ember’s ringtone; he knew it immediately. She had set it up herself, one day in happier times. 


	53. Hell's Angel Part 2, All in the Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied rape. Not remotely graphic, but I did want to include a trigger warning.   
I'm actually super proud of the scene with Crowley in here (which is unrelated to the warning above).

***Ember POV***

April 6, Evening

Ember knew immediately when she had emerged from the demon bond. For the first time in days, she didn’t feel angry. And then there was the guilt… the horrible, horrible guilt… and the memories, which crept up and threatened to overwhelm her.

The first thing she did was throw up, violently, all over the floor of the dungeon. The dungeon? _Why am I in chains?_ Oh, right. She’d refused to kill someone that Lucifer wanted dead. _Again._

With the Demon Bond lifted, however, the shackles, which were demon-specific, could no longer hold her, and she knew she finally had the option of teleporting away. Where should she go? Not the bunker – she wasn’t ready to face Dean yet. Not her mother’s, or the house in Conway Springs – she didn’t know if Lucifer - _Castiel - _was still on the loose, and she couldn’t afford to put anyone in danger. A motel, then.

It didn’t take Ember long to realize that she no longer had a limit on her teleportation anymore; “going dark” had clearly given her another bump in her powers. This would certainly make things more convenient, though she didn’t have time to dwell on the issue.

Once Ember was safely at the motel, she called Dean. Ember was thankful, in that moment, for Charlie, who had made her phone untraceable, and also that Lucifer hadn’t thought to take her phone away the last time he’d put her in chains. He had been too confident that nobody would come let her out, and he’d been correct.

“You broke the bond,” she said, without preamble. Her voice sounded foreign to her, as if she’d forgotten the sound. She choked on a sob. “Is Cas…?”

“He chose this,” said Dean angrily. “He _chose_ this. We tried to convince him… but once he had given us the blood to break the Demon Bond, Lucifer took over again.”

“Where is he now?” Ember asked. She wasn’t sure if she meant Castiel or Lucifer specifically. Everything was confused, and she was trying very hard to suppress the urge to throw up again. Or maybe cry… that also sounded like a good idea.

“Amara took him,” Dean said. “He tried to attack her… she wasn’t too pleased. Are you back at the bunker?”

Ember was still trying to hold back tears, but failing miserably. “No, I… I need some time to myself.” _“Do you know what it’s like to have sex with an angel, Dean?”_ Her own words rang in her head. _“Did you know I kissed Cas? … It seems I _always_ go running to Castiel when it _really_ matters.”_

“Oh,” Dean said, clearly disappointed in her answer. “But… you’re okay, right? Not in any danger?”

“No,” she said, and she couldn’t help it – the tears were breaking through. “I just-…” Hiccup. ”Need to be alone for awhile. Will you-…” Hiccup. “Call my Mom? And the kids? And tell them-…” Hiccup. “That I’m okay, and I’ll be around tomorrow?”

Dean sounded disappointed. “Yeah, no problem. Ember, where are you?”

“In a motel,” she said. “I wasn’t-…” Hiccup. “Sure if Lucifer was still on the loose.” Hiccup. “I’m gonna stay here tonight, but I’ll be around tomorrow. Promise.”

“Okay,” Dean said, though he still sounded unsure. 

“Thank you,” Ember said. “And thank you so much, for-…” Hiccup. “Getting me away from… from…”

“I love you, baby,” he said quietly.

“I love you too, Dean,” she said, and hung up.

Within seconds, she had passed out on the bed.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember had never experienced anything like this. She’d been miserable when she’d been young, with demons attacking her, still unsure what was going on and what she could do about it. She’d been distraught when she’d had to kill Carl, and when Zee had been possessed and stabbed her. She’d been extremely upset after she and Dean had been demons… but this, this was something different.

Last time, when she and Dean had been demons, they were on equal footing, with equal power. They’d fought often – trying to kill each other and passionate fucking had been so intertwined that it had been truly sickening, in fact. Still, the two of them, even in their demon forms, had been a balance of power, with neither one able to control the other.

This had been different; Lucifer had been more powerful than her. After a few days, that had become a problem – primarily for the tiny bit of her human side that still remained, but also for the demon side that didn’t appreciate being controlled. She had become angry with him a few times and escaped, but he could always find her, through the Bond if not otherwise. Castiel had held Lucifer back from doing his worst, and in her demon form she had toyed with Castiel, too, taunting him and playing with his emotions. “_Stop holding back! You did this to me, _again_, at least _enjoy _it! We can be together again… sort of…” _

All night, Ember dreamed of Castiel, and of Dean, and of herself, with black eyes. Her own cackling laughter echoed in her head even when she awoke. If Castiel ever did escape Lucifer’s clutches, would she ever again be able to look him in the eye?

First thing in the morning, Ember headed to her mother’s, where she spent the next two days. For most of it, she cried, threw up, and refused to eat.

Finally, three days after the demon attack, Ember headed back to Conway Springs to see her children. Krissy had done well while she was a demon, following through with the various precautions they had taken last time in case something like this ever happened again. They were happy to see her, and ecstatic that she was alright. 

Slowly, she would slip back into her former life.

***Dean POV***

April 12, Evening

“Sam, how’s the research going? You find anything that could help us get to Cas?”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. “No, Dean. Is Ember asking again?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, staring down at the text on his phone. “I’ll just tell her we’ve still got jack.”

“I don’t see why she doesn’t come here and help,” said Sam.

“Mmmhm,” Dean said, but he avoided the question.

He knew very well why she hadn’t yet been to the bunker. First, Dean knew how important it had been that their powers had been equal during their Demon Blood Bond. Even as a demon, he had never had a strong desire to control her, and vice versa. Their time as a demon had consisted mainly of killing other demons that Crowley disliked, screwing random people, singing bad karaoke, hurting people that pissed them off, shirking all manner of usual responsibilities, and just raising general havoc. He had a strong feeling, however, that her time with Lucifer had been different. He couldn’t even imagine what she might’ve gone through.

But it was more than that. Even if her time with Lucifer had been as horrible as he suspected, he knew Ember well enough to know that she would’ve leaned on him for support… unless there was some reason that she was choosing not to. _“Did you know I kissed Cas? Not just after I found out about Amara, but before that, too. Right after you threw me across the room. It seems I _always_ go running to Castiel when it _really_ matters.”_

Dean wondered if he should break up with her. It wasn’t just what the demon had said, either – he knew she had been in love with Castiel for some time now. 

When had they fallen apart, for good? Had they had a chance after he had tried to have her memories removed? After Gadreel? After their Demon Bond? He was tired… tired of trying to put a relationship back together that had truly stopped working a very long time ago. He loved her very much, but perhaps they truly were better as friends, or fellow hunters. Their relationship had felt for some time now like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

Still, he was not the type of man who would break up with a woman right after they’d been - well, he really didn’t want to think about it, to be honest. For the past week, though, his hands had been tied – she had pointblank refused to come to the bunker, or to allow him to come to her, though they had texted and spoken often.

Finally, nearly a week after she was released from the Demon Blood Bond, Ember materialized on the doorstep to the bunker. She took one look at him and burst into tears.

“Ember,” he said, and held her close to him. It had been _so long_ since she had been in his arms, and he had been _so _worried, no matter what else he felt for her… but after everything, she was okay.

When her tears had calmed, they stepped back and looked at each other. He searched her face for a sign of what was going through her head.

She looked down at the floor, guiltily, and he knew – he _knew_, that this was it.

Truly, it had been a long time in coming. 

“Dean, I-…” she began.

“You don’t have to do this today,” he said quickly. “You’ve been demon-free for just over a week.”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do. We have to talk about it, about everything. I want it -…” She hiccupped. “I want it sorted.”

Dean sighed. “In that case, let me go first.” He took her hand, leading her carefully to his bedroom. On the way, the two of them passed Sam, who averted his eyes.

Finally, when both of them were sitting on the bed, Dean said, “Ember, you know I would do anything for you. _Anything._ You know I’ve loved you since the day I met you, and maybe I always will. Now… what happened?”

He gauged her response. Ember averted her eyes again, guiltily. Then very, _very _quietly, she said, “I was angry… about Amara. So I went to Castiel… it was stupid. I thought Lucifer… I thought he was Castiel.”

Dean nodded, his thoughts somehow confirmed. “Did you ever stop loving Castiel?” he asked her softly.

“_No,” _was her quiet response.

“Will you ever love me again, the way you used to?”

Her eyes flitted up to him once more, just for a second, before she once again looked down at her lap. Tears were falling onto her lounge pants. “_I’m sorry,” _she whispered. She bit her lip, hard, visibly, drawing blood, but the tears finally stopped. Slowly, she turned to him. “I thought – I thought… I don’t know what I thought.” 

She bit her lip again, and then continued. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you. And we tried _so hard_, but in the end… in the end… I don’t know, something happened, after Gadreel. And I kept thinking that we could start over, that things would get back to the way they were before, but they just… never did. And you’ve been so _wonderful_, and so _supportive, _and so _great_, that I just didn’t want to-…”

“It’s been the same for me, you know,” he said.

“What?” she asked, looking at him with surprise.

“After you were with Cas… it hasn’t been the same. I thought that it was, but…” He shook his head. “Things never really felt the same. And then we were both demons, and afterward I thought I was so lucky we were still together… but it was because it was familiar, wasn’t it?”

Ember nodded. They sat in silence for awhile, before Ember said, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I want to be with _anyone _right now.”

Dean nodded, putting his arm around her and pulling her close. Truthfully it _did _make him feel better for himself, but he felt very upset on her behalf. He wondered, again, what must’ve happened with Lucifer, and once again decided he didn’t want to know. Even in addition to their equal power levels, they had never hurt each other when they were demons because they had truly had a _bond_, in a very weird demonic sense. But this time Ember’s bond had been with Castiel, whom Lucifer had happened to be using as a vessel. 

“Where does that leave us?” Ember asked him finally, and his thoughts returned to the current moment.

Dean sighed. “I don’t know,” he said.

They sat in silence again for a second, before Ember asked, “What about the kids?”

Dean felt a fierce rush of pride, combined with the biggest ache he had yet experienced. “I’d better still see them,” he said. “Especially Krissy.”

Ember managed a genuine soft smile as she looked at him. “Those kids adore you. Dean, you’re welcome at my place whenever – _whenever_ you like. With the way we live our lives, it’s impossible that we won’t still see each other from time to time, even _without _the kids.”

Dean nodded, thinking about this. “The same goes to you, you know,” he said. “Feel free to stay at the bunker whenever. With the way we live our lives, I’m sure there will come another point where you’ll need to.”

Ember nodded, looking away again and biting her lip. Again, there was silence. Finally, she said, “Dean… can I stay with you? One last time?”

“Yes,” Dean said, pulling her close.

***Ember POV***

April 13, Noon

Ember steeled herself, and said the incantation. _“Crowley, venit coram me…”_

After about 5 seconds, the demon appeared in the abandoned warehouse Ember had chosen for this venture, along with two of his henchmen. Ember smiled – it was just as she’d hoped.

“Hello, dahling,” said the Englishman. 

“Crowley,” Ember said, nodding.

“So,” Crowley said, walking around to stand in front of Ember. “Which of the Winchesters need saving this time? It’s only been a week since you yourself needed saving…” His eyebrows raised. “Unless you’ve called me to help save the angel? Surely you know he’s a lost cause…”

Ember blanched on the inside, but kept her face impassive. “I’ve come seeking information, and a favor. I’m willing to deal.”

Crowley gave her a skeptical look. “Name your terms.”

Ember looked quickly at Crowley’s henchmen, making sure that Crowley followed her eyes. “Dance with me, Crowley. A waltz, perhaps?” She clicked a button on her phone.

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up, if possible, even higher. Ember could almost see the wheels turning in his conniving head – was it a trap? Ultimately, as Ember hoped, curiosity – or, perhaps, desire – won out in the end, and he took her hands. 

They started a slow spin around the room. Once they were out of earshot of his two henchmen, Crowley said, “You’ve refused to go near me for years, and now all of a sudden you’re asking me to dance? How is it you suddenly trust me not to kill you?” He sneered. “Or worse, take advantage?”

Ember smiled at the demon. “I’m more powerful than you are, now,” she said. “That’s why you brought Tweedledum and Tweedlestupid.” She knew his question had been asked to discern whether or not she knew this.

He smiled, acknowledging that she did. “Alright then, name your terms.”

“I’ll give you a kiss,” she said, “And bragging rights.”

Crowley was so stunned he nearly missed a step in the waltz, but recovered himself. “_Bragging rights?”_

Ember smiled. “Unless we’re alone with my mother, my children, Castiel, or one of the Winchesters, I won’t _deny_ that I slept with you.”

Crowley twirled her around, sneering. “And what makes you think this is something that I desire? That you can manipulate me like a ditchable prom date?”

“Because you need that, and more, to secure your place as King of Hell,” Ember said simply. “And _I _need it to secure my safety.” She was right, and she knew it. Rumors would’ve reached Hell that Lucifer had been captured by Amara. Rumors would soon reach Hell, if they hadn’t already, that Ember had escaped Lucifer, as well. Ember knew that Lucifer had terrorized Crowley in Hell, and she suspected he would need the boost to his reputation to secure the throne once again.

“I take it that’s the favor,” Crowley said thoughtfully. “Secure your safety?”

“You must have a few loyal demons,” Ember said, gesturing to Crowley’s henchmen as the demon twirled her around again.

“True,” he said. “Not many to spare at the moment, but I can manage a couple. You drive a hard bargain, but I suppose this would be mutually beneficial.”

Ember smiled.

“Now, you also said something about information.”

“The Demon Blood Bond,” Ember said. “You told Dean and Sam that Lucifer was somehow able to forge a Demon Blood Bond with me while possessing Castiel. You said that you suspected it was because Lucifer _is_ the father of demons, so he could forge a Blood Bond with whoever falls in love with him, or with the vessel he’s possessing at the time.”

“It would make sense, yes,” Crowley said.

“So why did he wait?” Ember asked.

“What?” Crowley said.

“Lucifer possessed Castiel back in the cage,” Ember explained. “But it was a month later before he invoked the Blood Bond with me. It wasn’t until February.”

“Why should I know?” Crowley asked.

“Because you’re the only person I know who knows more about demons and demon lore than I do,” Ember said. “And, because you’ve spent the past few months being the man’s slave.”

Crowley visibly shuddered, but recovered himself and gave Ember a smirk. “As it so happens, I do have some idea,” he said.

Ember waited.

“Our deal stands, then?”

“Agreed,” said Ember.

“Excellent,” said Crowley, twirling her around once again. “According to the lore, Lucifer made demons, at least in part, to circumvent the angel’s necessity to gain permission before possessing a vessel. Demons are naturally predisposed to follow Lucifer… at least, generally,” he added, with a snide grin. 

“You consider yourself above those predispositions,” Ember said, smiling at him.

“I consider myself _more intelligent_,” he said, nodding. 

Ember waited for him to continue. “Creating demons allowed him to create an army, quickly, without heed for requiring permission from humans. It was efficient, and they were expendable.”

Ember thought about this, and Crowley continued. “Demons and angels, though they hate to admit it, are two sides of the same coin,” said Crowley. “We all go to the same place when we die. We all need to possess a human to walk around on Earth. So, it stands to reason that an angel could do the same thing as a demon – magically bond a human to him or herself and forcibly increase their supernatural powers.”

“Are you saying what Lucifer did _wasn’t _a Demon Blood Bond?” Ember asked, stunned.

“The term for the spell used on you was only ever called a _Demon_ Blood Bond because the angels are too pompous and stuck up to use that method of conversion,” said Crowley. 

Again, Ember grew silent with thought. 

“Everything I know beyond that is mere speculation,” said Crowley. “So don’t bank on it, if you get in a pinch. It’d be a shame to see you go to waste.” Here, he took a long look up and down her body, and Ember gave him a hard glare.

“So, Lucifer invoked the spell that is most commonly known as a Demon Blood Bond,” said Crowley. “But he _himself_ is _not _a demon, nor is Castiel. So it stands to reason that he was susceptible to the pitfalls of all angels – he had to have _some sort of permission.”_

Seeing the stunned look on Ember’s face, Crowley dropped her hands. She moved to sit down on a crate in the corner of the empty warehouse, and Crowley stood over her, leering. “So, did you cheat on Dean, then?” He gave a triumphant smile. “Is Castiel your side bitch?”

Ember glared at him. “We kissed,” she said. “It was a mistake.” She thought, suddenly, of Castiel’s words to her about their kiss the year prior, and bit down on the inside of her lip to keep her composure. 

Crowley was still leering at her. “Speaking of kisses,” he said.

Ember stood up. “One more thing,” she said, and glanced over to the other side of the warehouse to make sure Crowley’s henchmen were still out of earshot. “Say I _did _want to try to rescue Cas… what would that cost me?”

Crowley gave a genuine laugh. “More than your soul, and more than your body,” he said. “No one likes a whore, Ember. Move on from the angel, he’s a lost cause.”

Ember glared at Crowley.

“Glare all you like,” he crowed, softly. “You still have to kiss me.”

“Fine,” she said, glancing once again over at Crowley’s henchmen.

“Like a lover,” he said. “More than you would kiss for a demon deal.”

“Like a lover,” she agreed.

Kissing Crowley wasn’t as detestable as Ember had thought it might be, to be honest. She had known the demon for years now. Ever since the Demon Blood Bond with Dean, he had been a bit like an overly lecherous friend. It was a bit like what she imagined kissing Sam might be like. Plus, after Lucifer…

When it was over, Ember risked a glance at Crowley’s henchmen, who were both pointing at them and talking animatedly. Crowley gave a self-satisfied smile. “Well, it’s been exhilarating,” said the demon, taking her by the hand and leading her back over to the summoning circle in the middle of the room – back over to his henchmen.

“It truly has,” Ember said with a manipulative little smile. “I’ve certainly learned a lot.”

“You’re going to have to come up with a better proposition than that, though, if you want a repeat of that _lovely _night in Bermuda.”

Ember chanced a quick glance at Crowley’s henchmen before saying, “I’ll do my best to come up with something to tempt you.” Before she teleported away, she caught the slight quirk of Crowley’s genuine smile.

***Ember POV***

April 29, Midday

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Two hours after her meeting with Crowley, two demons showed up outside of her home. They were there 24/7, with no reprieve. For the first time in her life, the demons gave her some sense of safety. She was more powerful than both of them put together, of course. However, unlike the demons, she still slept.

No longer working feverishly toward ensuring the safety of her family and friends, Ember allowed herself to begin to heal from her time with Lucifer. She found that she did, in fact, have more tears. For more than two weeks, the only reprieve she felt from the pounding depression, and guilt, was sleeping. Even then, the nightmares were almost worse.

After three weeks, Ember still wasn’t back to work full time. She was back to work just enough to scrape by, but she was still always so sad. And lately, especially over the past week, she’d been so _sick_…

She had just finished throwing up for the third time that day when Dean called. It wasn’t a surprise – they had texted fairly frequently, and Krissy had been to the bunker at least twice since their break-up. While their first two break-ups had been extremely ugly, this one had been almost too easy, as though they had been headed for this conclusion for a very long time.

“So, you’re not going to believe this,” Dean started. “But, uh, God is in our guest room.”

“God of _what?”_ Ember asked, putting toothpaste on her toothbrush. She had managed to get a shower between bouts of hurling, and she had an appointment in ten minutes with a client that she really wanted to keep, preferably without smelling like vomit.

_“God,”_ Dean said through clenched teeth, in a soft voice. _“He showed up.”_

Ember froze, her toothbrush halfway to her mouth. 

“It’s Chuck, actually. The prophet? I’m not sure if it was Chuck all along, or if that happened after we knew him. And,” Dean continued, “Amara came by, as well.”

The toothbrush clattered to the floor. “She said she knows he’s resurfaced,” said Dean. “She showed me Castiel… Lucifer… whichever,” Dean said, his voice breaking.

Ember’s whole body tensed up, but she said nothing.

“He’s not doing so well,” Dean said. “She’s killing him. She said she wanted me to know. Ember, I…”

“Say no more,” Ember said. “I’ll be there in five.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember had made herself a promise, a very long time ago, that if she ever got to talk to God, she would ask him a few questions. Once she was faced with him, however, she was having a lot of difficulty working up the courage. 

It was breakfast the next morning, and God – or Chuck, as he was apparently calling himself - was eating pancakes. Sam and Dean had gone off to clean weapons, and Ember felt that she ought to say something to fill the quiet… and yet, nothing she could think of to say sounded appropriate.

Chuck looked at her, raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let’s have it then,” he said.

“What?” asked Ember.

Chuck shrugged, chewing on his pancakes. “You’re giving me that look that says you’re working yourself up to asking me questions about the universe,” he said casually.

“Yeah,” Ember confessed.

“Okay, let’s have it then.”  
“Okay…” said Ember slowly. She finished a piece of her own pancake, chewing slowly to give herself time to think. “So… I think I got… some of it,” she started. “The Mark of Cain kept out Amara, and it was entrusted to Lucifer, and Lucifer got into the Garden of Eden, and made demons. Right?”

Chuck nodded, still chewing his pancakes. “That’s the short version, yeah.”

“Okay,” Ember said thoughtfully. “So… why didn’t you stop it?” She asked it nonchalantly, and was careful not to insert any blame in the question. 

Chuck seemed to understand this. “And do what?” he asked. “Let Amara back out?” He shrugged again. Despite the “Chuck” meat suit, his eyes belied his true intelligence and power. “What I did was what I thought best at the time. It was the least objectionable option. It’s just that simple.”

Ember looked away from him. She was disappointed, but not surprised with his answer.

“That’s not really what you want to ask,” he commented, and her head whipped around again to look at him.

“What you really want to ask is, ‘Why did this happen to me?’ You want to know why _you_ were born a half-demon, and why _you_ had to suffer.”

Ember looked away from his gaze again, embarrassed.

“I want you to know, Ember,” he said, “That I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

She looked up at him, barely daring to believe, and also somewhat angry. On the one hand, he was _God._ How often did _anyone_ get a chance to talk to God? On the other hand, there had been _so much pain_…

“Nobody likes a helicopter parent,” Chuck said. “I’m not the type of diety that likes to nitpick every little decision humans make. It’s like I was saying the other day. Humanity is so entitled, anymore. And when they don’t work for something, and they still want it, then suddenly they’re praying to me as though it’s _my _responsibility. But you… you never asked for anything. You, and Sam, and Dean, and a few others… you’re the chosen ones, you know? The firewall, between the light and the dark.”

Ember looked carefully at Chuck, but she couldn’t think of a reason why he would lie.

“And you, especially,” Chuck said, smiling at her once again. “A half-demon, on the God squad? It’s unheard of! But you’ve worked twice as hard to earn your place, and earn your place you have.”

Ember felt tears cascading down her cheeks, and she looked down at the table, unable to comprehend the compliment. Suddenly, she felt a hand on hers.

“I know what you did,” Chuck said, his eyes boring into hers. “When Lucifer invoked the Demon Bond, and Dean before that.” She looked up at him, just for a second, quickly looking down again at her forgotten pancakes.

“I can erase your memories, and all the new scars… If you want.”

Ember’s eyes darted to look into Chuck’s eyes again. She felt suddenly fearful, though she wasn’t sure why. A month ago she had been desperate for these memories to be removed, but now…

Ember shook her head. “I hate them,” she said honestly. “But… they’re my memories. I can’t erase what I did to those people. I can’t erase what I said… not even what I said to Castiel.” A final tear trickled from her eye. “I’ll keep them,” she said determinedly.

Chuck smiled. With one hand, he took a finger and reached out, wiping the tear. “That’s my girl,” he told her.

***Ember POV***

May 2nd Evening

“Chuck” had been around for just over three days now. Ember had abandoned her job completely, texting hasty cancellations to all of her clients. To be honest, she’d lost an awful lot of clients during her second stint as a demon anyway, and it would take time to build up her business again.

With great effort, Ember, Sam, Dean, Metatron, and a prophet named Donatello had rescued Lucifer, which had been difficult enough. In a surprising turn of events, Metatron ultimately sacrificed himself attempting to hold off Amara.

“Who knew?” Ember said later. “For an obnoxious, horrible, deceiving mother-fucker, he apparently had one good bone in his body after all.”

It was an odd dichotomy of desires, Ember mused later. Of all of the beings in the world, Lucifer was by far the one that Ember wanted to see the least, but Castiel was the one she wanted to speak with the absolute most. Everyone else – her mother, her children, even Sam – worried that she would never be able to look at Castiel the same way again, because his image would remind her of what she had been through, but Ember knew this wasn’t the case. Castiel and Lucifer were as different as night and day, despite currently possessing the same vessel. With her powers, Ember could always tell which of them was in the driver’s seat, as Lucifer had a much brighter shine. Even without her powers, however, Ember would have known immediately, from a quirk of an eyebrow or simply an expression. She had always known, for example, when Castiel had been fighting to take over to save her from Lucifer’s worst.

“Please,” Ember asked Chuck. “_Please _do this one thing for me. Just for a minute. Just make him give me one minute to speak to Castiel.” And mercifully, Chuck agreed.

“It’s the least you can do for her,” he chastised his son, while Ember stood listening outside the door.

“I didn’t do anything she didn’t want,” Lucifer snapped.

“You didn’t do anything her _demon_ side didn’t want,” Chuck corrected, “And then you added a few beatings.” Lucifer fell silent.

A second later, Castiel came through the door. She could tell immediately that it was him, not least because he looked absolutely terrified of her. “Ember,” he said immediately. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I tried-…”

“Cas, _I’m _sorry,” she said. “I never should’ve said any of those things when you were just-…”

“You were a _demon_,” he insisted. “Because of _me._ I should’ve checked, I should’ve thought…”

“Cas, it’s _not your fault._ How are you?”

Castiel looked at his feet. “I’m doing what I can, to save the world.”

Ember’s eyes began to fill with tears, and she reached for him, but he shrank back. “I’m sorry, Ember,” he said, giving her another scared look. And with that, he hurriedly returned back into the shelter of his room at the bunker, where Chuck was waiting. 

“I swear to _you_, he’s such a sap,” Ember heard Lucifer’s voice say a second later. 

She didn’t stick around to hear anymore, but fled to her room in tears.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember, Dean, Sam, Crowley, Rowena, Charlie, Chuck, and Lucifer had slowly gone about recruiting everyone they could for the final fight against Amara. Sam managed to recruit the witches with Rowena’s help, and Dean and Ember recruited the demons, with Crowley’s help. Castiel (Lucifer) even managed to get the angels’ help. Even Charlie got in on the action, and hacked into a government computer. She found a way to divert some targeted missiles with concentrated range to where they planned to lure Amara.

Finally, Ember had an idea. She wasn’t sure about it, but she wanted to do her part. “God – uh, Chuck?” she asked when she had a moment alone with him, before the big battle.

“Yes?”

“Um… I wanted to ask you… if I unleashed my _full_ power… even my demon powers, to kill and maim? Would it help? I mean, I know it would help,” she said, shaking her head. “What I’m asking is… will I be able to come back from it? Do you need me to use them, or…?”

Chuck narrowed his eyes. “Your full powers… you haven’t used them outside of the Blood Bonds?”

“No!” Ember said immediately. “I would never…!”

“Then don’t,” Chuck said. “It would be helpful, yes, but not enough to make a difference, I think. And if you’re not used to using them, you could hurt the baby.”

“The – _what?” _ Ember said, stunned. Chuck just smiled and walked away.


	54. Alpha and Omega

***Ember POV***

May 3, Early Morning

Ember woke up earlier than everyone else, and trudged into the kitchen. Chuck was alone in the kitchen, looking at Dean’s computer and eating leftover Chinese take-out food.

“Hey… um, Chuck? Can I ask you a question?”

“Mmmm,” he said, not looking up.

“Um… okay… so… what am I supposed to do with a half-demon, half-angel child?”

“Free will,” Chuck said immediately, still not looking up. “Like I said, it comes with the kit.”

Ember sighed, sitting down next to Chuck. “I _know_ that,” Ember said. “But… I don’t have _any idea _how to… where to even _start _with this. I mean… is it Castiel’s child? Or Lucifer’s?”

“No way to tell,” Chuck said, continuing to watch the anime. “Could be either one.”

“It… could?” Ember asked. She had been sure that Chuck was going to say the child was Lucifer’s.

“If they were fighting for the driver’s seat,” Chuck said, “It could be either.”

“Okay,” said Ember. She thought about it for a moment. ‘’And… what if it’s Lucifer’s?”

“What if it is?” Chuck replied.

“Will it be… evil?”

Finally, Chuck put down the Chinese food and turned to Ember. “Lucifer wasn’t _made _evil,” Chuck said. “The Mark corrupted him. So it doesn’t matter whether it’s Castiel’s or Lucifer’s… it won’t be evil. Not to start out with, anyway.” Chuck considered for a second, then added, “You should know, though… giving birth to this child… you won’t be able to survive it… not without the healing powers of an angel, anyway. A normal human can’t survive the birth of a nephilim, but you might be able to. You’ll still need an angel, though.”

Ember swallowed, understanding Chuck’s meaning. “So Castiel can help-…”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” said Chuck, returning to his Chinese food.

“What do you mean?” Ember asked, suddenly angry in Castiel’s defense.

With a sigh, Chuck once more abandoned his Chinese food and looked at her. “Ember, I didn’t make angels to understand things like shades of grey. They were made to be my soldiers. And Cas… don’t get me wrong. He rebels more than most, and he’s always exceeded my expectations. But he’s not ready to be a father to a half-angel. He’ll abort that child as soon as look at it.”

Ember gave Chuck a horrified look. “I-…”

“Don’t blame him,” Chuck said. “He loves you. Far more than you know, I think actually, and far beyond what your supernatural powers can account for. He’d never want to hurt you… but that’s how I made him. It’s in his wiring. It’s why the angels don’t run around fornicating like those pagan Gods you and the Winchesters run into every once in awhile.”

Ember closed her eyes, stunned. A horrible weight had settled in her stomach, and she knew Chuck was right.

“So… what should I do?” she whispered. “If... if I want to have the child? And… ensure that it’s good?”

“Again,” Chuck said, sighing. “Free will. But… do you want my honest advice?”

Ember nodded.

“Run,” Chuck said. 

“What?” 

“If we survive this,” Chuck said, “_Run._ Go on the run, and don’t look back. Right now the child’s magic, and yours, are working in your favor. Its magic appears to naturally hide it, but that won’t help you when you’re showing, and when your powers change with the pregnancy. One look through your mind by an angel, or possession by a demon, and they’ll know everything. Stay away from hunting.” He paused, letting her digest. “And then, when the child is born – if you make it that far – make sure you’re around someone who won’t kill it on sight, and who knows how to hide it properly, and raise it to be good. Your friend Sam Winchester might be a good bet, but there will be others.”

Ember could feel herself tearing up.

“I’m sorry,” God said. “If you’d like, I can get rid of it for you.”

Ember shook her head. “No, I… I just need to think,” she said. “It… it doesn’t matter now.” She looked up at him with her best attempt at a forced smile. “I mean, you know, Amara might kill us all in an hour any-…”

But just then, Ember heard Dean’s footsteps coming from the hallway. Not wanting Dean to see that she’d been crying, she turned on the spot and disappeared.

***Castiel POV***

May 3, Morning

The big fight with Amara was over.

They had lost. 

The witches, demons, angels, Lucifer, and God had all fought her, and they had all lost.

But at least Lucifer was gone.

It was the first time Castiel had been himself in months. Now there would be people who would want him to answer for his time as Lucifer. Dean and Sam would want to know why he made the decision to allow Lucifer to possess him, and what he planned to do if Lucifer hadn’t been killed in the battle against Amara.

And Ember… At least with Dean’s Demon Bond, the two of them had been equal in power. They’d each had free will. But the demon bond with Lucifer… how had such a thing even happened? Surely she must blame him! He should have known, should have thought about the possibility. He’d _known_ Lucifer created the demons. He should’ve known Lucifer would know how to pervert an angel and create a demon bond… He would never forget, as long as he lived, the sight of her black eyes. “_Stop holding back! You did this to me, _again_, at least _enjoy _it! We can be together again… sort of…” _

He had closed the door on their relationship when he thought he was dying, but as soon as both of them realized that he _wasn’t _dying, it felt as though the door had somehow opened again. As much as he had tried to avoid her after their kiss, he had secretly hoped that _somehow, _miraculously, she still loved him. She had been with Dean at the time, but perhaps someday she would have made a different choice, a choice that would have allowed them to be together, if the fates aligned. And he had been her deepest desire, he knew that. Now, though, after everything that had happened between them, the door was closed forever. He had caused her nothing but pain, and what little apology he had been able to give her would never make up for the damage he had caused.

All things considered, it occurred to Castiel that he was almost, _almost _relieved it was the end of the world.

***Ember POV***

May 3, Noon

They had a plan. God had said that Amara’s weakness was light, which made sense, really. They were going to end her. They had everything they would need, theoretically. Billie the Reaper had even shown up, and provided thousands of souls, which had been harnessed into a bomb.

Maybe they would even live through the day. Then they could figure out what to do about Crowley and Rowena in the same room, and about God dying. And _then, _Ember could figure out what to do about Castiel shooting her guilty, sad looks when he thought she wasn’t looking from across the room. And eventually, she’d figure out what to do about _the other problem._

“So what now?” asked Castiel, after shooting Ember another furtive glance.

“Well, now we have the bomb, so we just have to find Amara,” said Sam.

“I can track her,” said God. “She’s not warded anymore. Why would she be? She won.”

“Okay, so?” asked Dean.

“We need somebody to get close to her, someone with a … personal connection,” said Castiel.

For the first time in the past 12 hours, thoughts of the pregnancy left Ember. “Dean, _no,” _said Ember.

But they all knew it had to be Dean. Rowena and Crowley were raising their eyebrow at Dean, waiting for his answer. Castiel was hanging his head. Even Sam swallowed hard.

Dean looked around at the group, and reached for Ember’s hand. It no longer mattered that they weren’t together, nor did anything that had happened in the past. He looked her in the eye, and she knew… she _knew_ he was right. This was their last chance to save _the world_… and this time, it was Dean who had to be sacrificed.

Maybe they would be lucky, and God would still find the strength to pull Dean back from the Empty and send his soul to Heaven, before even God was reaped.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Before he died, Dean had one request: to go to the grave of Mary Winchester. 

Castiel was the first to say good-bye, and he caught Dean in a hug. “I could go with you,” Castiel offered.

Dean looked at Ember, just briefly, and Castiel followed his gaze. When they made eye contact, however, Castiel looked away once more. “No, no, no,” Dean said. “No, I gotta do this alone.” Then Dean said something softly, too soft for Ember to hear. Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed together, and he glanced at Ember once more, and nodded. “Thank you for everything,” Dean said to Castiel, louder this time.

Then Dean turned and addressed the group. “Okay, look. I want a big funeral,” he said. “All right? I'm talking epic. Okay? Open bar, choir, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy.”

“Done,” said Sam, while Ember nodded. Tears were streaming down her face.

“And for my ashes, I like it here,” Dean continued, looking near to tears. “Yeah. You know, as far as eternal resting places go.”

He moved closer to Ember, nodding at her. “Ember,” he said, and reached to hug her, but Ember moved for his lips instead, and the two of them kissed, fiercely. His lips were soft, and she remembered all the good things – their talks in the Impala, and sunrises, and beer, and Dean teaching the children to fight, and Valentine’s Day in Colorado.

Dean pulled back, surprised. “I’m sorry for everything, Dean,” she said. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out like we’d wanted. But I love you…”

“I love you too,” he whispered into her ear. “I always have, and… I always will, even if that love is different now. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better, couldn’t be everything you wanted.”

“Dean…” she said, but he shushed her with another soft kiss. It tasted wet, and Ember realized it had mixed with her tears.

Dean reached into his pocket, then, and took out the keys to the Impala. He hesitated for a moment, as if collecting himself, and walked over to Sam. Sam shook his head, with tears in his eyes. The two men talked softly for a moment, then hugged. This hug lasted longer than either of the other two goodbyes - a hug between brothers.

Finally, Dean let go, and already he seemed miles away. He gave one last determined look at the group. “Let’s do this,” he said.

Chuck snapped his fingers, and Dean was gone.

***Castiel POV***

May 3, Afternoon

Somehow, the six of them – Sam, Ember, Castiel, Rowena, Crowley, and Chuck (God) – had found their way to a bar called “The Lazy Shag.” The bar was closed, but Crowley had opened it anyway. It seemed fitting, somehow, here at the end of all things. 

Crowley and Rowena were sitting at the bar companionably, taking lazy drinks. Sam was speaking in hushed voices with Chuck in the corner. With horror, Castiel realized that Ember was approaching him, for the first time since Lucifer had left his vessel.

It was just as he thought – she was looking at him differently. Once she had been his best friend’s girlfriend. Then she was _his_ girlfriend, and afterward there had still been _something _between them, whether it was a hope, or a wish… Now, she looked at him with trepidation, and there was terror in her eyes. He could tell she had steeled herself before even approaching him.

“Ember, I’m so, so, _so_ sorry,” he told her. “I never thought there could be a demon bond between us, and it never even occurred to me that Lucifer would pervert-…”

“Cas, you told me that already,” Ember said, calmly. “And I already told you, it’s _not your fault.” _She swallowed hard. “Look, if we survive this… I think I’m gonna take a break from the whole hunting thing. You know, with Dean gone, and all, I think it’s just best if I sort of… lied low and took some time to heal.”

It was just as he’d thought. Ember never wanted to see him again. “It’s _not your fault,”_ she said again, seeing the upset look on his face. “And I don’t blame you, or anything like that. It’s just… I think I need some… space. You know, a quiet life. For awhile.”

Castiel understood. It was better this way. His presence had only made things difficult for Ember and Dean as a couple, ever since Castiel had been with her. And now Dean was probably going to die, and he had saddled Ember with a horrible Demon Bond… it was probably better this way. He felt a horrible weight settle in his stomach.

Suddenly, Sam cried, “Chuck!”

Chuck had disappeared.

A few minutes later, the sun returned to the sky, and they knew it was over.

Dean had done it! The world was saved.

And Dean was gone. And Ember never wanted to see him again.

***Ember POV***

May 3, Evening

Ember’s thoughts were whirling as she headed back into the bunker. Honestly, she was trying not to cry. Just a few more hours with Castiel wouldn’t hurt anything, as the group of them all mourned together…

Nobody had heard from Dean, _or_ from Chuck… She had called him, and his phone was still ringing, and wasn’t going straight to voicemail. Wouldn’t it go to voicemail if he… _exploded?_

Ember was so distracted that she missed the woman whose hand was dripping blood in the lobby of the bunker. Suddenly, Castiel was gone in a blink of light, and a tranquilizer dart lodged itself firmly into Ember’s neck.

“Hello, hello!” said a woman’s voice.

It took Ember a second to register that she had been shot and that there was a sting in her neck, and another second to register that she wasn’t incapacitated. 

During this time, Sam had reached for his gun, but the woman drew a gun on him first. “Don't. Sam Winchester. Toni Bevell. Men of Letters, London Chapterhouse. Oh, you won't have heard of me—us. We're very traditional. Keep out of the way, keep to our studies.”

Ember tried to become invisible… but it wouldn’t work. She looked down at her hands in horror. _Why wasn’t it working?!?!_ Thinking fast, she played dead.

“You, um... What?” Sam asked.

“They sent me to take you in,” Toni responded.

Did Ember still have the power to move objects? What was up with her sudden loss of powers? Was this because of the pregnancy? Opening one eye just a bit, she experimented with, very slowly, moving a pen that was on the table behind the woman. This worked fine.

“To take me in?” Sam asked.

“Assuming the world didn't end, and— Yay,” Toni said. Ember hated her already. She was disgustingly chipper and far too well put together.

“Look, lady—“

“We've been watching you, Sam. What you've done, the damage you've caused—archangels, Leviathans, the Darkness, and now, well— the old men have decided enough's enough.” 

Ember thought quickly. Did she want to throw Tony against the wall now, or see how things played out? It was always better to know your enemy. She would see how things played out, then.

“I mean, let's face it, Sam,” the woman continued. “You're just a jumped-up hunter playing with things you don't understand and doing more harm than good. Now, where's Dean?”

Ember’s heart jumped, and anger filled her.

“Dead,” Sam said. “Listen, lady. I don't know who the hell you are or what the hell you want—…”

“Stop,” Toni said.

Sam moved forward despite Toni’s warnings. “Put the gun down.”

“I said stop,” Toni said again. Ember was watching now with a squint, ready to stop the bullets if needed. 

“You and I both know you're not gonna pull the trigger,” Sam said.

Toni fired. Ember slowed the bullet, which pinged against Sam’s leg harmlessly. She jumped up, throwing Toni against the wall. “Cleary the British Men of Letters isn’t as good as they think they are,” Ember said. “Your tranq dart sucks.” 

“You _shot_ me!” Sam screamed angrily.

***Ember POV***

May 3, Night

Sam wasted no time in putting Toni in the bunker’s dungeon. Ember was glad for her appearance, almost – it would give Sam something to do, with Dean gone and her out of the picture. Meanwhile, she had to go check in with Krissy. She was fairly self-sufficient, being 18, but Ember still didn’t like leaving the young adult on her own for over 48 hours. She was devastated about Dean, but a small voice in her head reminded her that Dean had been in worse situations than this and still survived. Plus, there was no real confirmation that he was even _dead_, and still no word from Chuck.

Finally, late that night, Sam texted.The text simply said, “Come quick.” 

Ember was terrified. Had Toni escaped from her bonds? Did they find out something about Dean?

Ember teleported to her usual spot, just outside the bedroom she used when she used to stay overnight. She heard voices coming from the kitchen… _including Dean’s._

“Dean!” she screamed, and launched herself into his arms. 

He held her tightly, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Ember,” whispered Dean in his low voice. “I’d like you to meet my mother.”

“_What?”_ Ember said, surprised. She whirled around, and, sure enough, she saw the woman she recognized from Dean’s old pictures. 

Ember looked around the room in shock. Sam was looking at his mother lovingly, and Dean was looking at her expectantly. Castiel was avoiding her gaze. Mary Winchester was beaming at her.

”_How?” _ Ember said.

Dean explained the story. He said that Amara had decided to make up with God, and that they had left Earth on an extended vacation. In return for his help, Dean said, God had brought his mother back to life.

Ember wasn’t sure what to feel. She was happy for Dean, of course, but apprehensive. Despite their break-up, Ember was still very much a part of “Team Free Will.” What would Dean’s mother think of the fact that she was half-demon? 

“We told her about you,” Sam said, noting how uncomfortable she was. 

Ember’s head swiveled around to Sam, silently thanking him. Then she turned to Mary, awaiting her judgment. 

The older woman smiled at Ember, a good sign. “My sons have told me that you hate demons as much or even more than we do. They told me you’ve been a good friend, to both of them. It’s nice to meet you,” Mary said.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It was late at night, but everyone seemed to feel that a meal was in order. 

“This is fantastic,” said Sam, eyeing the food his mother had bought appreciatively.

“All I did was point at some stuff on a take-out menu,” she said. “I would've cooked, but I, uh...don't.”

“Well, now, wait,” said Dean. “Your meat loaf was amazing.”

“Came from the Piggly Wiggly,” Mary replied. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Mary tapped Dean on the arm. “But do you still like pie?”

Dean laughed and grabbed the pie.

Mary turned to Sam. “Sam. You keep looking at me like I'm going to explode.”

Sam laughed. “I'm sorry,” he said.

Ember looked at them, fondly: her ex-boyfriend, her best friend, and the love of her life. She would miss them all, very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I circumvented the whole plotline at the beginning of Season 12 with Lady Toni. She drives me nuts, anyway. She's like the "Joffrey" of the series, for me anyway. Plus, I really wanted a fitting end for Ember before she went into deep cover. So sue me.   
Please review! You people who are leaving comments sustain me. You're amazing.


	55. Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Rock Never Dies

***Ember POV***

**SUMMER**

Ember’s life for the next few months was quiet, but stressful in its own way. Krissy was still home from school, so she had to be very careful to hide her pregnancy from her. This was more difficult than she would have expected. She had constant morning sickness until the end of June, and her powers phased erratically – not just invisibility, but teleportation, too. It was exasperating – one day she could teleport to the grocery store and back, and the next day she couldn’t even teleport from the bedroom to the living room. She found herself making up excuses to Krissy about being overly tired, or about still having residual trauma from her time as a demon.

The silver lining was that until the end of June, Krissy was still in high school, so missed most of the morning sickness. By the time school was out, Ember was finally reaching the end of her first trimester. By mid-June, the morning sickness had mercifully stopped, and so had the phasing of her powers.

Throughout the later part of June, Krissy spent more time at the bunker than she did at home. She accompanied the brothers on a particular case involving a young girl who turned out to be psychic. The brothers recommended that the girl see Ember as a therapist, but she never called.

Ember still talked often with both of the Winchesters – Sam more than Dean, but only barely. She knew that a man named Mick Davies from the British Men of Letters had come for Toni. Apparently, Dean had let Mick take Toni back to “face consequences in Britain,” but he still didn’t trust either one of them. She also knew that their mother had taken off to “find herself”, and that both boys were very upset about it. 

Finally, Ember learned from the brothers that Castiel had gone hunting for Lucifer with Crowley.

“I don’t know,” Dean said over the phone. “Don’t ask me to explain it. One’s an angel, one’s a demon, and they both fight crime.” 

Ember smiled, thinking longingly of the angel.

***Dean POV***

June 30, Afternoon

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Dean had been broken up with Ember for more than two months now. This break-up was different than the previous ones somehow – more final, but also more peaceful. They had settled into a rhythm of calling or texting once in awhile. More often, Ember would call Sam (or vice versa), and end up talking with both of them, or the brothers would take turns. Dean still spent a lot of time with Krissy as well. Ultimately, Ember and Dean functioned as friends and co-workers far better than they had ever functioned as a couple.

The thing Dean missed most about Ember, if he had to be honest, was that he hadn’t been laid since their break-up. Not that it was a competition, and not that he didn’t have about a million other things to think about, but he was still Dean Winchester, after all. He was still on the prowl for pretty girls.

Though he was loathe to admit it, he hoped to meet some pretty girls when he attended the wake of Asa Fox, a well-known hunter who had also been a ladies’ man. The wake was more uncomfortable than anything, however. There was a definite shortage of eligible females, and both males and females treated him and Sam like celebrities. 

Despite the fact that he and Sam had actually come to support their friend Jody, Dean was seriously thinking about leaving when one woman in particular caught his eye. She had shoulder-length blond hair, and was skinny. She wore a flannel blouse and jeans, and she had a great ass. He saw her first from behind and to the left, and he also noticed a tattoo on her left arm: “RIP Bill & Ellen.”

He realized it, just as she turned around. “Jo?!?!”

“Dean!” she said, equally as surprised. She stood, and catapulted herself into his arms. “Jesus, I haven’t seen you in _ages!”_

She smelled good, he thought.

“Jo, where have you _been?”_ Dean asked. “I haven’t seen you since the Leviathans, and of course Sam had to go and _lose_ your number…”

“Greece,” Jo said, leading him over to an empty sofa. “Hunting lamia, actually.”

She smiled and pushed the hair out of her eyes, and Dean noticed that she was missing the last two fingers of her right hand. An ugly scar decorated the hand as well.

“That’s where I got this,” she said, catching him looking at it. “Finally killed it, though. The one that got Mom.”

Dean nodded, gesturing toward her tattoo. “I’m sorry, Jo.”

She shrugged. “That’s the life, though, isn’t it? You save as many as you can before you get taken out.” She smiled again, and it lit up the room. “And Mom saved an awful lot of them.

“So what have you been doing, Dean?”

Dean smirked at her. “You know, more of the usual. Saving people, hunting things. I killed Hitler, actually.”

She looked disbelieving. “Come again?”

***Sam POV***

July 2, Morning

“It’s _7AM,” _snapped Sam two days later when Dean stumbled back into their motel room. 

The brothers had run into their mother at the wake, and the three of them had gone out for dinner after it was over, though she still refused to return to the bunker. The day after, however, Dean had called Jo, and the three of them had made plans to meet up. Sam had stayed at the bar until about midnight, after which he had headed home, Dean promising to follow a few hours later. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex with _Jo.”_

Dean shot an angry look at Sam. “So what if I _did?”_ he asked.

“Well, she’s… she’s _Jo,” _Sam protested. Jo wasn’t the kind of girl you had sex with… Jo was the kind of girl you had a _relationship _with. Although, Sam was pretty sure that _any _girl was the kind of girl Dean had sex with.

“Relax, I didn’t have sex with her,” Dean said. “We just sort of… talked.”

“All night?” Sam asked, flabbergasted. “I can barely get you to talk for five minutes!”

Dean shrugged. “You’re not female,” he said. “And you’ve already heard the story about how I killed Hitler.”

“I was _there,”_ Sam reminded him, but Dean had already collapsed on his bed, asleep.

***Ember POV***

August 2, Evening

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Ember was lying on her bed watching Netflix when the premonition came.

_ Sam and Dean were in a concert hall. A man was on the stage – Lucifer, she knew immediately. He had possessed the rock star, Vince Vincente, Sam had told her the last time they’d talked._

_ Perhaps 100 people were running out of the concert hall as Sam attempted to fight off Lucifer’s power. In the end, only him and Dean were left, trapped with the angry archangel._

_ “Hey! Assbutt!” Ember heard suddenly, and she saw Castiel. His lip was already smashed in, and she could already tell he was tired. Still, he took a guitar and smashed it toward Lucifer’s face._

_ Lucifer fell backward into the drums, and Castiel followed up with a large hammer. Lucifer was stronger, though, and kicked out at Castiel, who was thrown aside like a rag doll._

_ Dean jumped onstage, and, quick as a flash, placed binding handcuffs on Lucifer._

_ “Hi Dean,” he said confidently, and tossed Dean aside just as he had Castiel. The handcuffs turned yellow, and burned off._

_ Castiel had recovered, and had attempted to close in on Lucifer with his angel blade, but Lucifer stopped him, and the angel blade once again clattered to the floor. “Guys, you know I could end you all with a snap of my fingers?”_

When Ember awakened, she was sweating and clammy. Still, she wasted no time. She grabbed the bottle of holy oil she kept nearby. She sent a text to Krissy, telling her to head to the bunker in case things went badly, because she’d be safer there. Then, she teleported away.

When Ember teleported into the concert hall, the events she had witnessed had already begun to unfold. Lucifer, in his Vince Vincente meatsuit, was onstage. “Tonight’s not gonna be a typical show. Tonight you’re gonna see and feel things you’ve never seen or felt before. Things might get a little bit messy.”

Ember’s eyes found Dean and Sam in the crowd just as Dean held a gun in the air and shot it, and people began screaming and running out, Sam barring the door open as best he could.

There was no time. Castiel would be on the stage presently, she knew from the premonition. She teleported onto the stage just as he said, “Hey! Assbutt!”

As Castiel hit Lucifer with a guitar, Ember uncorked the holy oil. She used her force powers to send it up into the air and in a circle surrounding the drum set and microphone. Just as Castiel followed up with a hammer, Lucifer spotted Ember, who was fumbling with a lighter. Instead of kicking Castiel, he threw out his hand, immobilizing Castiel, who staggered backward fighting an invisible force.

Meanwhile, he grabbed Ember by the throat. “It’s been too long,” he whispered to her, pulling her close to his face.

She used all of the power within her to blast him back, but it did nothing. She could feel it, the thing she dreaded most – Lucifer’s tendrils of thought creeping into her mind, scanning… Ember guessed that Lucifer likely already knew about the child, or at least had guessed, or hoped. Still, she didn’t want to give him any reason to learn more…

Lucifer let go of her with a yell suddenly, as Dean clamped the handcuffs onto his wrist. The handcuffs stabbed into Ember’s throat as Lucifer let her go, drawing blood. Somewhere, Sam screamed, “Ember!”

“Hi, Dean,” said Lucifer, and Dean was tossed aside too.

Suddenly, the circle of holy oil erupted around Lucifer – someone had lit a match. Ember was thrown aside, and she felt herself falling, falling into the holy oil. Someone caught her by the shoulders, though, and pulled her back, wrenching her feet over the holy oil. Ember felt pain erupt up her ankle.

After that, it was several seconds before she could form a conscious thought again. When she did, she saw Castiel, his hands on her ankles, which were healed. As one, they turned toward Lucifer, who was still caught in the holy oil.

“Dear old Dad, he finally apologized for abandoning me, and what’s the _very _next thing he does!” Lucifer exclaimed at Sam and Dean. Ember had an idea that he had been talking to them for a few seconds from inside his circle of holy oil, but she wasn’t sure about what. “He ditches me,” Lucifer continued. “And you too, by the way. And rides into the sunset with Auntie Amara.”

His head swiveled back to Ember and Castiel, and he smiled. “But it doesn’t matter, because I’ve got a new cause!” He smiled, a horrible, cackling smile, his eyes swiveling to Castiel. “Surely she must’ve told you by now. You must be so, _so _upset. God, I _hated _it, all those months in your stupid head. All Ember, all the time.”

Ember blanched as Castiel looked at the archangel quizzically. “Unless – …” he looked at Ember. “Unless he doesn’t _know! _Unless you haven’t _told_ him!” He grinned widely.

Suddenly, a much louder noise came from behind Lucifer. “Mah tay, ez loh, say tah!” screamed Rowena.

And in a flash, Lucifer was gone.

***Castiel POV***

August 2, Evening

Castiel was feeling a myriad of emotions, which was an unusual experience for him. What was not unusual, however, was that most of his emotions had to do with the half-demon woman that he was desperately in love with, who was (for some reason, and he wasn’t going to complain) still holding his hand. He was relieved that Lucifer had finally been sent back to the cage, and that Ember was okay. He was also relieved that Ember had thought to show up at the last possible second with holy oil, and that Crowley had been able to recover enough from his injuries earlier in the evening to grab Rowena. More than anything, though, he was worried, and scared. What was Ember not telling him?

Crowley seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Alright, Ember, spill. What’s he talking about?”

Ember dropped Castiel’s hand, her face panic-stricken. “It’s none of your business.”

“Bullshit,” said Crowley. “Do you really take me for a fool? We both know that whatever Lucifer has on you is _definitely _my business.”

“Leave her alone!” said Castiel and Dean at once, advancing on Crowley.

Ember pushed past him. “I appreciate your services keeping me safe from Lucifer,” she said. “But they’re no longer required.” She stared at the demon, and the demon stared back. They seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes.

Finally, Crowley said, “Fine. I get it. Whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into, I’ll give you some privacy to tell Moose, Squirrel, and Feathers over there about it. But don’t forget, I’m the God damned ruler of Hell. I’ll find out sooner or later, love.”

“Not with my help you won’t!” exclaimed Rowena.

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Come along, mother. I’ll take you back to whatever rich man you were manipulating. Or off a cliff.” Crowley shot one last look over his shoulder at Ember and Dean in triumph, then disappeared, Rowena with him. 

Once Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Ember were alone, it was silent. Finally, everyone spoke at once. Castiel said, “Ember, are you okay?”

Sam said, “What was Lucifer talking about?”

Dean said, “Ember, what’s wrong?”

Ember looked up at all of them, fear in her eyes. She dropped Castiel’s hand, backing away from him. Why was she backing away from him? He would never hurt her…

“I’m pregnant,” she said suddenly.

Castiel felt his heart plummet. Horrible jealousy engulfed him immediately, against his will. That was it, then. Ember and Dean would have a family, and that would be the end. He swallowed, hard, and opened his mouth to force himself to say “Congratulations.”

Before he could get the words out, however, he noticed Dean and Sam’s faces. Both of them were looking at him, with horror… waiting for his reaction. There was a question in both of their eyes, but Castiel couldn’t comprehend it. It must be because they knew he was still in love with her. Had he been that obvious? He had tried _so hard_ not to let it show…

“That – congratulations,” he said dully. He knew he sounded jealous, and even angry, but it had surprised him. Granted, he knew about her desire not to pass down her demonic nature, but if that’s what she and Dean had decided, then that was that. His bitter congratulations had been less than perfect, much less than she deserved, so he tried again, finally bringing himself to look her in the eyes. “You and Dean will be great-…”

But there was something he was still missing. Dean had thrown his hands up and gave an audible, “Son of a bitch!” Sam was tapping his foot and shaking his head, and had let out a sigh. And Ember…

Ember was looking at him like he’d grown three heads. She rolled her eyes at him. ”Cas, I’m _almost_ _five months_ pregnant,” she said gently.

And slowly, very slowly, it clunked into place.

“No!” he said immediately. It was horrible. It was too horrible to comprehend. He couldn’t. He _couldn’t _let it hurt her. “Ember, don’t worry about it,” he said, moving closer toward her and holding out his hand. He missed her stomach by inches, and she shrank back. “Ember, it won’t hurt, I promise, just let me get rid of it-…”

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say. Ember dodged his hand once again, and teleported to the other side of the room. “Take care of Krissy!” she shouted at Dean and Sam. And then she was gone.

***Castiel POV***

August 3, Early Morning

Castiel, Dean, and Sam raced to Ember’s home in Conway Springs, and then to the bunker. They were unsurprised by what they found in either place. Ember’s most precious belongings – her computer, a supply of clothes, etc. – had been taken from her home in Conway Springs, apparently in a hurry. 

Krissy was at the bunker, and reported that she had already been made aware of what was going on. She was visibly distraught, and handed Sam and Castiel a letter from Ember. “Did you really try to abort her baby?” Krissy asked Castiel accusatorily. “Jesus, you’re such a dickbag. I wish she’d chosen Dean.”

Castiel felt that he had missed a step. “Chosen… Dean?” he asked Sam.

Sam sighed heavily. “Dean and Ember broke up last April, man. He didn’t tell you?” Sam paused. “I was wondering why you two hadn’t hooked up by now. The kids said you hadn’t been around to see her.”

Just then, Dean wandered into the room, holding a six-pack in his hands. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the letter.

“It’s from Ember,” said Sam, who was holding it. He held it out so that the three of them could look at it.

_Cas, Sam, and Dean, _

_ I am having this baby. God was the one who told me I was pregnant. He told me none of you would accept it, especially you, Castiel. Just so you know, it’s not necessarily Lucifer’s son… it might be yours, Cas. _

_ I’m going on the run. I thought of all different ways to do this. I thought perhaps I could stay in contact with the kids, at least… but I don’t want them used as collateral or ransom when Crowley or the angels find out. Because I have no doubt that they ultimately will find out. _

_ Take care of them. _

_ Don’t try to find me – you know I know how to hide. No matter what happens, I love you, all of you._

_~Ember_

Castiel felt a swooping in his stomach. _They didn’t understand…_ Just when he was about to open his mouth, however, Krissy said, “That’s bullshit, you know? You’re the one who got her into this in the first place. You should be supportive of her.”

Castiel blanched back.

“Alright, Kris,” said Sam, clearing his throat. “I’m really sorry, but we’ve got to talk about what to do, just the three of us.”

Krissy stood still, refusing to move. “Look, we promise we’ll let you help with whatever plan we come up with, once we figure this out,” said Sam, placating the teenager. “We _promise._ But we’ve only just found out about all of this, and we need to get our thoughts together.”

Krissy still didn’t move. “We won’t do _anything_ until morning,” Sam said again. “It’s _late, _and all of our emotions are running high. And Cas, here, just found out he might be the father…” Castiel flinched.

Finally, Krissy marched down the hallway, shooting Castiel an extremely dirty look on her way out of the door to the kitchen. 

Once she was gone, all three adults let out a breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding.

“OK, what are we going to do?” asked Dean immediately, taking a sip of his beer and passing it to Sam.

“Find her,_” _said Castiel immediately.

“So you can abort the baby?” Dean challenged him.

“It’s a nephilim,” said Castiel. “It’s an abomination.”

“It might be _yours,” _Sam argued, sitting down heavily in a chair.

“Nephilims are an abomination of God.”

“Dude, that’s fucked up,” said Dean, shaking his head and sitting down as well.

“But it sounds like God was _endorsing _the child,” said Sam.

Castiel stopped for a moment, but then shook his head. “The child might be Lucifer’s. A child of an _archangel…_ you can’t even _imagine_ the power. I simply can’t allow-…”

“Doesn’t sound like you have a choice,” Sam said, taking another sip of his beer.

Castiel had reached the end of his patience, which was usually exceptionally high. “You don’t understand!” he expelled. “She won’t survive it! Having a nephilim… it’s suicide!”

Sam’s eyes opened wide, and Dean stood up sharply. “Then tell her you won’t hurt her! Lie to her!”

Castiel and Sam both shook their heads. “Dean, she’d never fall for that,” Sam said slowly. “Cas… are you sure? I mean, with all of her demon powers…”

Castiel thought again for a moment, but looked pained. “I mean, I _might _be able to save her… _if_ I can heal her fast enough when…”

“So _do it,” _Dean said, but Castiel gave him a pained look.

“Jesus, Cas, this isn’t rocket science,” said Dean, clearly frustrated. “She loves you. Be there for her while she’s pregnant, and then save her when she has the child. What’s the fucking problem?”

“I can’t allow it to be born.”

“So you would let her die?!” Dean screamed, moving so that he was within a foot of the angel. “Ember’s not stupid. Sam’s right, she’s not going to come anywhere near you as long as she thinks your intention is to abort the child.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Castiel screamed at his best friend. “I don’t need _you _to tell me about Ember.”

“Clearly you _do,” _said Dean. “_Fix this_, Cas! It’s _your_ damn fault she’s in this mess in the first place, now _clean it up!”_

Castiel felt anger and hurt boil within him. Before he knew what he was doing, Dean had sailed across the room and hit the back wall. Then Castiel fled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got re-written at least twice. I thought it might be time to bring Jo back into the picture, so I hope you like. Please review! Do I have to beg? Anyone who reviews gets Castiel. And Dean. With cake. And pie.  
Also as you can see, I couldn't get on board with the prison plot. Sorrynotsorry.


	56. Stuck in the Middle (With You)

***Dean POV***

August 16, Morning

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Over the past two weeks, Dean, Sam, and Krissy had done everything they could to find Ember. They had looked at every teleport spot they knew. They had informants everywhere looking for her. They had turned over every stone, and called in every favor they had. Still, there was nothing.

Finally, the remainders of Team Free Will were forced to conclude that they had quite frankly taught Ember too well. It had never occurred to any of them that she would ever be hiding from _them._ Truthfully, they might’ve passed her several times and still missed her, because none of the three of them could actually see her when she was invisible.

When Jo called one morning, it was a welcome distraction.

“Jo, how are you?” Dean said, picking up the phone.

“’Mmm okay,” she said. “Can we meet up? I’m in the area. We’ve gotta talk.”

“Sure,” Dean said, his heart pounding unexpectedly.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour and a half. Biggie’s cheeseburgers?”

“Sounds good,” he said.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

In an hour and forty minutes, Jo arrived at Biggie’s and sat across from Dean. Biggie’s was relatively sparsely populated with lots of room, and Dean knew Jo had picked the diner for that reason. Jo looked tired, but otherwise good. Her hair was a bit longer than when Dean had last seen it, and a new scar stood out white on her arm. “Wendigo,” she said, when she caught Dean looking at it. She smiled, and Dean once again felt his heartrate accelerate. 

“You could ask for help anytime you want,” Dean said, grinning his best grin.

“I will,” she said, smiling at him. “When I’m in over my head.”

She lowered her voice, and Dean knew he was about to find out why she had really asked him to meet. “Speaking of being in over my head,” she said conspiratorially, “Tell me about this nephilim.”

Dean’s spoon dropped onto his plate. “How did-...?”

“Tortured a demon last week. He had a lot to say about your ex-girlfriend. And the angel, Castiel.”

This meeting was not at all going how he had hoped. “How do I know you’re not a demon?” he challenged.

Slowly, Jo pulled down the neck of her top, showing her anti-possession tattoo. Dean’s heart leapt to his throat, and he smiled despite himself at the skin she was showing. She caught his grin. “Focus, Dean,” she said, rolling her eyes. He gave her another charming grin. Jo cut her finger, and drew a tiny angel banishing symbol on the table, then held her hand to it. Nothing happened.

“Okay,” Dean agreed. Slowly, he told her everything that had happened with Ember, Castiel, and Lucifer. It felt good to vent to someone that wasn’t Sam, for once. An image came to his head, unbidden: himself and Ember in the car, so long ago, after he had just met her, discussing hunting and demons. He smiled reminiscently.

“What?” Jo asked.

“We should meet up more often,” Dean said. “When there’s not a crisis.”

Jo smirked at him. “Maybe we should,” she said.

***Castiel POV***

August 19, Night

Castiel had almost caught Ember twice. The first time, he had arrived at one of her old teleportation spots in Nebraska and asked around. A lady had told him that a woman fitting Ember’s description had left 15 minutes ago. 

The second time, he managed to catch a glimpse of her in a motel in Alabama that she had frequented occasionally. “Ember, please!” he had shouted, but she had teleported away, giving him a fearful look.

He was pacing a motel in Hawaii when he heard Sam’s prayer. “_Cas… Dean says this is a lost cause. Look, I don’t know if you knew, but Hell knows about Ember now.”_

Castiel felt a lurch near his stomach region.

“_It was one thing when it was just us looking for her, but now it’s every damn demon in the United States, and soon every angel too. We’ve got to give her a place to hide. I’ve got a proposition. Come back to the bunker.”_

It took Castiel a good three days, but he eventually made it back to the bunker. Dean gave him a scornful look, but otherwise said nothing. Krissy avoided his eyes.

“Look,” said Sam once all five of them were in the kitchen. “We hoped once you disappeared, Ember would come back. But she hasn’t. I think she’s too afraid you’re going to tail us to find her.”

The idea had crossed his mind. He had a feeling Dean guessed this, because Dean caught his eye at that point and gave him an icy glare.

“It was different when it was just us,” Sam continued. “But now every demon alive is after her, and probably the angels, too. And they won’t think about her. Hell won’t think twice about letting her die after they get the child, and Heaven will kill them both on principal. And the demons can teleport.”

Castiel nodded. “So what’s your proposition?”

“A truce,” said Sam. “I know you don’t want the nephilim to be born, Cas. I get that. But I know you, at least, don’t want Ember to die, either. What we need is more time to decide what to do about this, with Ember _safe._ So we’ll get the word out to her that we’re willing to offer amnesty. She’s not even six months along. We have a little time to figure out what to do, but in the meantime we need her _safe, _with the people who care about _her_, rather than the nephilim_._ And that means you have to promise not to abort her child when she’s not looking.”

Castiel considered this for a second. He was desperate, to be honest. He had yet to come to a conclusion about what to do. He loved Ember endlessly, more than even he could understand, but allowing the nephilim to live went against everything he had ever believed in. He wished he could get her to understand why it _had _to go… perhaps Dean and Sam were right. Perhaps more time was what they needed.

“Agreed,” he said.

***Dean POV***

September 

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Dean, Castiel, Sam, and the children had continued to look for Ember for the past month, to no avail. They had left messages for her about their truce in her hideouts in places only she might look, such as in the back of the remote control where the batteries would go, and inside a bottle of her favorite Deoderant. Still, the brothers and Castiel had not seen from or heard about her. Every so often at various hideouts, they ran across demons who were also looking for her. This was reassuring in its own way, because at least they knew she was still at large.

Still, they were beginning to get desperate.

***Ember POV***

September 23, Night

Ember was now six months pregnant. She had a routine schedule now. She would wake up in one hotel, then teleport to a new spot. She would sneak into the new hotel, invisible, and take a shower. Then she would spend the remainder of the day wandering around the city, familiarizing herself with new spots to teleport to if she needed to. After the first month on her own, she had completely abandoned every single one of her old teleportation spots, and now had an entirely new network of spots to which she teleported. She ensured that her pattern was entirely random. She would teleport to different cities at least twice throughout the day, and be in a third city by nightfall. She was taking no chances.

Once each week, she allowed herself the privilege of glimpsing someone familiar. Nearly half the time, she went to one of her children’s colleges. Occasionally, she got far enough away from the bunker to see Sam or Dean entering or exiting. 

These trips were risky, especially lately. Lately, there had been angels positioned outside of the bunker, as well as Krissy’s college, and of course their home in Conway Springs. Still, Ember couldn’t resist these trips. She lived for them, for the chance to see someone, anyone, familiar, if even for a second.

Aside from this, Ember spent an immense amount of time watching television. She drowned herself in every show she had abandoned all these years. For the brief period she watched television, she could forget – forget about Castiel, forget about the possibility of having Lucifer’s child, and forget about the fact that it had been months since she’d spoken to someone familiar.

It was September 23rd when Ember once again felt the headache that meant a premonition was coming on. As usual, she was watching television when it started. She rolled her eyes, and laid back and let the pain wash over her:

_ A demon – a strong demon, though Ember had never seen him before – was standing over Castiel with a long blade. Castiel was crawling away, holding his side, then running away with Mary Winchester… Then she saw Castiel, black foam pouring from his mouth, and he was choking on it…_

When Ember awakened from her fainting spell, she knew, instinctively, that this time the vision had already occurred, or _was _occurring. Castiel had already been stabbed, she knew.

In a split second, Ember had teleported to the barn.

“You look like hammered crap,” Dean was saying to Castiel, leaning over him.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” said Castiel.

“Let’s see,” said Dean. He froze halfway to Castiel, however, as he spotted Ember out of the corner of his eye. “Ember!”

Everyone turned toward Ember at once, and the room grew silent. It was as though time was suspended in animation as everyone waited to see what Ember would do next – even Castiel, who Ember could tell was getting worse by the second.

Ember didn’t have time for this. “Premonition,” she said, by way of explanation. She pushed Dean out of the way, and leaned over Castiel. “Let’s see…”

Castiel’s skin was rotting, from the point of entry of the spear onward. It reminded Ember of the toxic virus Amara used to spread, or of the Croatoan virus, only less pronounced and much quicker-acting.

“All right,” said Dean. “Okay. Hey, you know what? I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, yeah? When?” Castiel snapped. “Dean, something’s wrong. I... I can’t heal myself. I think the... I think the demon’s s-spear was poisoned. I don’t... I-I think I’m dying.”

_No._ Something inside Ember snapped. 

“No,” Dean said. “No, you just need some time, okay? You’ll heal up the old fashioned way. Sam! Sammy!”

Crowley appeared just behind Sam and Mary, suddenly. “You idiots. You’re all going to die.”

Ember reacted immediately. Tearing her eyes away from Castiel, she stuck one hand out, and covered her stomach with the other. 

“Relax,” said Crowley, gesturing to Ember. “I’m not after the spawn of Satan. Not at the moment, anyway. We have other issues.”

“Well, this day just keeps gettin’ better,” said Dean sarcastically.

“Crowley?” Sam asked, annoyed.

“You’re him? The King of Hell?” asked Mary.

But Ember tuned out while they did introductions. She went around to Castiel’s side so that she could still see the demon if he did anything threatening, and turned her attention to Castiel. He couldn’t die, not now. Not when she was about to have his child, when they weren’t even _talking… _“I can heal you, I think,” she said. She had healing powers, now, as she had accidentally learned two weeks ago when she had stumbled and skinned her knees on the rocks. Her powers were growing by the day, actually… they had been for the past month. She laid her hand on Castiel’s stomach.

She was surprised when he wrapped his own hand, covered in blood, around hers. “Ember,” he whispered.

Try as he might, though, she couldn’t heal him. She had another idea, though. “I can teleport you,” she offered instead. “And then we’ll figure something out back at the bunker…”

“No, you can’t,” said Castiel. “Moving me may speed up the process. You may have gotten stronger, but teleporting humans and teleporting an angel are two very different things.”

Ember moaned in protest. She tried again to heal him, but the effort was fruitless. She knew that she _should have _been able to do it, but something about his wound wasn’t allowing it.

“Wait a second,” Sam was saying. “The demons. They were yours.”

“Obviously,” said Crowley.

“They killed my friend,” said Mary.

“Your friend was stupid,” said Crowley. “You’re all... Do you know what you’ve done? Does the name Ramiel mean anything to you?”

“Yes,” said Ember and Castiel at once, while the other three all said, “No.”

“What?” asked Sam.

“Ramiel, Prince of Hell,” Castiel answered, by way of explanation, and Ember nodded. Castiel had told Ember everything he knew of Hell when the two of them had dated.

“Lucifer made Lilith, and then he made four other demons,” Ember filled in, her hand still on Castiel’s stomach. “The Princes of Hell, more powerful even than the Knights of Hell. They’re Azmodeaus, Dagon, Ramiel… and Azazel.”

“Azazel,” Mary breathed, recognizing the name.

Crowley nodded. “They all have his eyes. My demons were there to keep people away from Ramiel. Believe me, that’s a hornet’s nest you do not want to be kicking.”

“Too late,” said Dean.

“What happened to Cas?” asked Sam.

“He got stabbed with some kind of silver-tipped spear,” Mary answered.

“It’s not a spear,” said Crowley, recognition flaring in his eyes. “It’s a lance. The Lance of Michael.”

“Michael.” Dean repeated. “As in _Michael_ Michael?”

“Nasty bit of business,” Crowley agreed. “Kills everything it touches. If you’re a demon, you go up in a puff of smoke. If you’re an angel, you just... rot away. Sorry, Castiel.”

_No._ Castiel _couldn’t_ die. They had been through _so much_ together, this couldn’t possibly be the end. She looked into his eyes, and she saw fear… and an apology. Very slowly, he took his hand from around hers, and placed it gently on her face. She leaned into his touch, despite the fact that it was gooey with his own blood. She placed both of her hands on his hand when it started to slip.

“We took down the Darkness, and the Devil,” Sam was saying, thinking along the same lines.

“It took you years to defeat Lucifer, and the power of God to stop the Darkness,” Crowley said. “Maybe if you had more time, you could manage Ramiel. But right now, in this barn... Hey, I was growing fond of the choir boy, too.”

“Shut up. Shut up!” Dean screamed. “We don’t have time, okay, for your– for you. So either help us or get the hell out of here!”

Crowley disappeared. “Yeah, figures,” Dean said. “Cas, how bad is it?”

Castiel was groaning and writhing in pain, but he managed to pull aside his collar. Under his shirt, the tendrils of the infection were spreading across his chest. “Crowley’s right,” he said. “You should go.”

“Cas, come on,” Dean insisted.

“Cas, no,” Ember whispered. She was still holding Castiel’s hand in both of hers, and tears were streaming down her face.

“No, you listen to me,” said Castiel. “You– Look, thank you. Thank you. Knowing you, it... it’s been the best part of my life. You’re my family. I love you. I love all of you. Just please... please, don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run. Save yourselves. And I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can. “

“Cas, no,” said Dean and Ember again, sharing eye contact.

_This wasn’t happening, it’s not happening…_

“Like you said, you’re family,” said Dean. “And we don’t leave family behind.”

Castiel was looking at Ember, now.

“We hit him with everything we got,” Dean was saying.

They were moving around Ember, preparing for battle, but when she turned to help, Castiel tugged her backward and caught her with his gaze. _“I love you, you must know that. I’ve always loved you… I’ve never stopped…”_

Castiel smiled at her and his gaze burned through her. _“I’m _so _sorry about the Demon Bond, Ember. And I have no right to even ask for your forgiveness, after everything… after the _child… _But those months with you were the happiest of my life, and if things were different, I’d have settled down, like you wanted…”_

Ember looked back at him, shocked at the words he had for so long refused to say, but which she had somehow always known were true. “_Cas, I-…”_

Suddenly, however, they were distracted by a crash. Crowley was sailing, screaming, through the window, where he landed unconscious on the floor. Dean and Sam jumped up to go investigate, but Ember stayed next to Castiel. The brothers had barely reached Crowley’s body, however, when the demon Ramiel walked through the door.

Sam quickly dropped a lighter to the floor, and a second later a ring of fire rose up around Ramiel. “Toasty,” he said.

“You stabbed one of our friends,” said Dean, pacing around the circle.

“Your friend was trespassing,” said Ramiel.

“Tell us how to cure him,” demanded Sam menacingly.

“There is no cure,” said Ramiel.

“You have any idea who we are?” asked Dean.

“I don’t care,” said Ramiel. “I don’t care who you are. I don’t care why you’re here. I don’t care about Heaven or Hell or anything. I don’t even care that Lucifer’s got a bun in the oven.” 

“You know about that?” asked Mary.

“My sister Dagon, she’s taken an interest,” said Ramiel. “But me? Eh.”

“Let me guess,” said Dean with a significant look at Ember, who had begun to open her mouth. “You don’t care.” Dean was looking at Ember sharply, and she understood his look: “_Don’t tell him. Not yet. He doesn’t know about you.”_

“All I wanted was to be left alone,” said Ramiel. “But then you come. You steal from me. And that? Oooh. That I cannot abide.”

Ember looked at Dean and then Castiel, but both of them looked back at her innocently, their eyes holding the same question: Who had stolen from him? 

Ramiel slowly took out a pocket watch from his jacket. “Give me back what’s mine,” he said. “Or I take it off your lifeless bodies. You’ve got 30 seconds.”

The seconds ticked by slowly, and Ember looked at Castiel. “_Go,” _the angel told her telepathically. The grey was creeping up to his face now. “_I’m not worth it._”

“_I won’t abandon everyone I love unless I have no other choice,” _Ember thought fiercely at the angel. She thought she saw Castiel give her a small smile, but then his eyes sailed over her shoulder.

Ramiel had drawn a large, silver lance from out of nowhere, and was readying it. Ember stood up, also readying herself.

As if in slow motion, Ramiel brought the Lance down onto the ground. It blew out the circle of holy oil, but made no more effect. 

Ramiel’s eyes immediately leapt to Ember, who had fought back the blast caused by the Lance of Michael. He squinted at her carefully. “I thought you were with him,” he said, gesturing to Crowley, who Ember just now noticed seemed to have regained consciousness. “But there’s something more to you…”

“I am half-demon,” said Ember. “The child I carry is part demon, part angel, and part human.”

“It’s yours?” Ramiel asked her, clearly surprised but trying not to show it. “_You’re_ the mother of Lucifer’s child?”

Crowley stood up, brushing off his long black coat. “’Told you not to go in the barn.” 

“Might be,” replied Ember honestly. “Now cure him, or I’ll kill the child.” And she aimed her own angel blade at her stomach. Dean, Sam, and Castiel all looked shocked.

“You’re bluffing,” Ramiel said.

“How mad do you think Lucifer will get?” Ember asked. She sent a glance of her own toward Dean: _“Do something.”_

“Doesn’t matter,” said Ramiel. “There is no cure. Now get out of the way, or I’ll _make_ you.” He started toward Ember, but at that moment Mary took advantage of the distraction and ran Ramiel through with an angel blade. Ramiel turned toward her, throwing her backward, but Ember blocked his blow. Instead, Sam grabbed the Lance of Michael from Ramiel and stabbed him squarely in the chest. For a moment, his face was alight with laughter… until he exploded, in a giant burst of grey smoke.

At the same time, Castiel screamed in agony, and Ember turned around to find that black goo was flowing from Castiel’s mouth. “No!” she screamed.

Sam threw the Lance down and ran to his side. “Cas. Hey, buddy. Hey, we’re here, Cas. We’re right here, buddy. Hang in there, all right? What do we do?” And the world was ending, because Castiel was dying, even _after_ they’d beaten Ramiel…

Crowley was investigating the Lance Sam had dropped, and suddenly, he snapped it in half. To the surprise of everyone in the room, Castiel began to glow, a bright blue light surrounding his body.

“Cas!” Ember screamed. What was this glow, and what had caused it? Had Crowley caused the glow when he broke the Lance in half?

The glow faded, however, and when it was gone Castiel lay on the same sofa as before, without a single scratch.

Slowly the group turned to Crowley, stunned. 

“The magic’s in the craftsmanship,” he said.

Ember screamed, and ran to hug him. Crowley gave her a dazed look, and it occurred to Ember too late that he likely was not used to hugs. “You - you’re welcome,” he said. And with that, he dropped the broken lance and disappeared.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Ember, please,” said Sam five minutes later. “Come back to the bunker with us. Let’s talk.”

Ember shook her head, her heart sinking. All she wanted to do was go back to the bunker and talk with Castiel, for hours on end. She wanted to see her children, and make sure they were okay. She wanted to kiss Castiel, to prove to herself that he was still alive… to prove to herself that _she _was still alive.

But she shook her head. “I can’t,” she said regretfully. “I have to go. I’m stronger than Crowley, but it won’t take him long to arrange back-up. He wants that child, I can see it in his eyes. And none of us know how Crowley found out from Lucifer about the child in the first place, because I’m assuming it wasn’t _anyone_ here. And Dagon, the other night of Hell, has taken an interest?” 

She shook her head. She was shaking, she could feel it. She was trying desperately to hold the tears back. She wanted nothing less than to go on the run again, estranged from everyone… but she couldn’t slow down. “I have to stay on the move,” she said.

“Then I’ll go with you,” said Castiel. “A truce. I promise, I won’t try to hurt the -…” Here he paused, a sickened look on his face. “The _child_ again. I just want to _talk.”_

Ember was sorely tempted. But what would happen when Castiel wanted more than just to _talk?_

It didn’t matter, however – she was stronger than Castiel, more powerful, now this late in her pregnancy. She’d known this as soon as she felt him again in her premonition, and it had surprised her, though it had been eclipsed by the rest of the premonition. Unfortunately it wasn’t only Castiel that she was worried about. Dagon was more powerful than any other living demon, and apparently she was “interested.” And Castiel couldn’t teleport. Additionally, Castiel was right, Ember could feel it – she may be able to teleport other humans, but angels were a different thing entirely. Castiel was completely grounded, and so would be a liability.

“I’m sorry, Cas,” she said. “I wish – I _really_ wish that I could. But I teleport… everywhere now, for my own safety, and for his.” She put a hand gently on her stomach. “And Dagon can teleport too. I can’t… can’t risk it. It puts you in too much danger, all of you.” She smiled, wanely. 

And with that, she turned invisible and teleported away once more, to a motel room in Texas. To her horror, a couple was already busy having sex on the motel room bed. “Fuck you guys!” Ember expelled angrily at them, and the couple screamed and looked up at the unexpected intrusion.

Ember was already gone, however, to another motel room in Chicago. This motel room was mercifully empty, and Ember sprawled out on the bed, finally letting the tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: As it turns out, it's a lot easier to manipulate around canon than to write original stuff. I love that this has diverged so much from canon now that I've gotten through both Demon Bonds, but it's taking longer.
> 
> Also PPPPPPLLLLLLLEEEEEAAAAASSSSSEEEEEE review!
> 
> I don't own Supernatural.


	57. The Raid

***Ember POV***

October 21, Afternoon

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Ember was now seven months pregnant. Over the past month, Ember had found a new way to keep an eye on her loved ones without putting herself in danger - the British Men of Letters. 

She had found them completely by accident, actually. She had been highly unfortunate one night and run into a group of vampires – in fact, she’d accidentally teleported about five feet from where six of them were halfway finished drinking a young teenage girl. Just as she had been about to teleport away, however, they had been attacked.

The attack was precise, immaculate, and over practically before it had begun. Hoping that the hunter might know something about what was going on with Sam or Dean, Ember had followed them, against her better judgment. They had thrown the vampire into the back of a large semi truck, and Ember had climbed, invisible, into the back of the semi truck with the corpse.

It had been a horrible idea, but for once, it had paid off. The British Men of Letters base was brilliant, really. They were doing great work. Ember would never support the idea of joining them – they were far too bureaucratic, and the lead hunter, Arthur Ketch, frankly scared Ember to death, as did Lady Toni, the woman who had attempted to kidnap Sam awhile back.

Still, they had managed to systematically wipe out a huge chunk of the United States vampires. Ketch and Toni spent little, if any, time on the base. Instead Ember spent time there invisible watching their bureaucratic leader, Mick Davies, as well as Alton Morehead (Research and Development), and Serena Colman (Security and Surveillance).

It was the best of all worlds, as far as Ember was concerned. She knew the Winchesters, and probably Castiel, would more than likely be attempting a million ways to attempt to talk to her and convince her not to have the baby. As they began to get desperate, this might even include warding or specialized traps, and it would be increasingly dangerous to be anywhere near either her children or the bunker.

The Men of Letters, however, had no angel warding. They had demon warding, but this would never stop or trap Ember no matter how strong her child became. They had no reason to suspect her hanging around, and so had taken no steps to keep her out or trap her. 

What they _were_ doing was keeping an awfully close eye on the Winchesters. Ember was surprised how much they knew about the brothers, and even about her, though apparently they hadn’t gotten word of either her ability to teleport or the fact that she wasn’t susceptible to devil’s traps, salt, or any of the other things that full demons were susceptible to. 

Mary Winchester was with them, too. She wondered if the brothers knew that their mother hunted with the Men of Letters. She wondered how Dean in particular would feel about that, after Toni had tried to kidnap Sam. Perhaps she would see them all one last time, or write them a letter, before she gave birth, to tell them all that she had found out. For now, however, the Men of Letters didn’t seem to present a threat. In fact, they appeared to be trying to figure out how to get the Winchesters on _their_ side. It made Ember laugh.

In this way, she kept an eye on the Winchesters, from a distance, for her safety and for theirs. 

Then, finally, on October 21st, Sam Winchester himself marched into the British Men of Letters headquarters. Ember was so stunned when she saw him that she almost accidentally became visible. He was with his mother. “The Brits talk like they’re roughing it,” she was telling him under his breath.

Ember wanted to run up and hug him, but she resisted the urge. She tried to think what to do. Of the three of them (Castiel, Dean, and Sam) the taller brother was the one most likely to be sympathetic to her reasons for having the baby. Still, it was too risky, and she wouldn’t give up the one thing that had brought her any happiness this past month.

Besides, if he liked what he saw at the headquarters, he might come around more often. She felt like a teenage girl stalking a crush, but she shook off the embarrassment. Instead, he was her best friend, and she was keeping him safe by continuing to hide from him and his brother, and the children. She was keeping her nephilim child safe, too.

“Sam Winchester,” said Mick Davies, coming out of his office. “You didn’t tell me your son was stopping by.”

“Didn’t know I had to,” said Mary. There didn’t seem to be any love lost there, and Ember wondered briefly why Mary seemed annoyed with Mick but so friendly with Ketch, who personally gave her the creeps.

“Anyway, welcome,” said Mick.

Sam looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, um, you know, I really dig the whole low-budget Mission Impossible vibe, but I’m gonna head back,” he said.

“You sure?” Mick said. “You’re just in time for the briefing.”

“Mick,” Mary said warningly.

“I mean, that is, if you wanna hear how we’re gonna exterminate every last vampire in America.”

That got Sam’s attention, and it made Ember smile. Mick was a good leader, and very charismatic - Ember knew that there had been no such briefing, as they had already done it a half hour ago. This new briefing was mostly for Sam’s benefit.

Mick wasn’t so bad, really. He was systematic and militaristic, but he was also generally kind-hearted. He made decisions that Ember might not have made, such as killing _all_ monsters without exception, however Ember knew he had never been taught otherwise. He was a paper-pusher. Still, he really _did _seem to want to know more about American hunters.

After introductions, Mick gestured Serena to begin giving a bit of information (again, mostly for Sam’s benefit). “As most of you know,” said Serena, “Phase One of Project V is nearly complete. Over the past months, we’ve focused our efforts on the NWR. When we started our operation, there were 241 vampires active across 12 states. We’ve killed all but 11.”

“Wait, what?” said Sam, who had refused to sit. “Seriously? How?”

“You American hunters tend to see vampires as criminals, rogues,” said Serena. When one gets out of line, you show up, lop off its head, and leave town. We treat them more like terrorists.”

“Vampires may typically hunt alone, or in small nests,” said Alton, “But scratch the surface, and they’re all connected, from the lowest drone all the way up the chain to the top.”

“To the Alpha,” Sam confirmed.

“When we find a nest, we don’t just charge in a la John Wayne, guns a-blazing,” said Mick. “We wait, we watch.”

“We determine the size of the nest, and it’s relationships to other vampire groups,” said Serena.

“They tend to trade amongst themselves,” confirmed Alton. “Information… victims.”

“We’re constantly expanding and refining our intelligence,” explained Serena. “And when we’ve learned all we can, we go, we assemble a team…”

“And wipe them out,” said Mary.

Ember could tell Sam was taking this all in, and that he was impressed.

“Now all the remaining NWR vampires have bunkered up in an abandoned building near Wichita – the Morest Hotel. They think they’re safe.”

“We’ve got the AVD locked and loaded,” said Mary.

“AVD,” Alton explained. “Anti-vamp device.”

“Tomorrow, we ship out, raid the compound, terminate the colony, and complete Phase One.”

“And then we move on to the rest of the country,” said Mary. “By the time we’re done, there won’t be a single bloodsucker left in America.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“So,” Mick said. “Thoughts on our little operation?”

Sam gave a look that was clearly trying not to be impressed.

“Mm-hmm,” Mick said, not missing the look. “And our team?”

“Serena and Alton seem smart,” Sam admitted, but Ember stopped listening. Sam was impressed. Would he be coming here more often? Would Dean come here as well? Maybe even Castiel? Not likely. This group might consider him another monster, and angels in general had done nothing to dissuade that feeling.

Suddenly, Serena screamed, and everyone gathered around the security camera. Ember couldn’t see what they were looking at, and didn’t want to get too close by gathering around, so she waited for someone to answer her unspoken question. Finally, Serena said, “It’s the Morest vampires. They’re here.”

***Sam POV***

October 21st, Late Night

Sam was pissed, and impressed, and annoyed, and worried. He was pissed because this idiot group of British Men of Letters had gotten their own headquarters attacked, and now he was having to help defend them. He was both impressed and annoyed, because once he successfully killed these vampires, that would be the end of all of the vampires in the Northwest Region. The systematic wipe-out of all vampires by the British Men of Letters was impressive, but also annoying because he had underestimated them. And, of course, he was worried for his mother.

Ember was the last person whose voice he expected to hear, particularly here, particularly while he was in the middle of defending a door from a vampire attack. Still, the voice calling to him was definitely hers, and he was so surprised that he almost let the vampires get the jump on him. Almost.

“Sam! What do you need?” she yelled.

“What are you doing here?!” he yelled back at her, slicing off a vampire’s hand.

“Premonition!” she yelled back.

This didn’t surprise him. “Down the hall to your left! Get them out!” And he didn’t have the chance to look back to see if she had followed directions.

***Ember POV***

October 21st, Late Night,

Ember hadn’t had much time to think, which had been annoying. First, it had occurred to her that she shouldn’t let herself be seen if she ever wanted to come back here. Therefore, she had started by taking out every vampire that had stepped outside of the security camera’s line of fire, which was about half of them. She was invisible, but an invisible force killing vampires would still be suspicious.

She had also told Sam that she had had a premonition, so that hopefully he wouldn’t expect her to hang around the Men of Letters headquarters after he left. This was a lie – her premonitions, she knew, involved only Lucifer, and now Castiel.

Ember sprinted off down the hallway as fast her pregnant belly could go, though it felt more like a waddle. She turned left, where she found Mick, Serena, and Alton. It looked like they had been in the process of making bullets. Without thinking, she put a hand on both of their shoulders and teleported them about five miles away.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It was a full thirty minutes later before Ember returned to the Men of Letters headquarters. She couldn’t afford a return trip, not after she had taken Serena and Alton to safety. She could’ve teleported directly in front of the vampires, which, invisible or not, would’ve been dangerous with as slow as she was moving these days.

Half an hour later, she reasoned, whatever would’ve happened would be over. Apparently signal was back up, and the raid was over, with no human casualties. Dean was across the large room talking to his mother, and seeing him for the first time in weeks put a smile to Ember’s face.

Still, the conversation between Mick and Sam occurring in the corner was more important, and Ember stepped closer to listen.

“If you hadn’t been there tonight,” Mick was saying.

“Yeah, we got the kill. That’s what mattered,” Sam said.

“Hardly an advertisement for the British Men of Letters, though,” said Mick. “Or my leadership. Caught unawares with our proverbial pants down.” Mick sighed. “At least Serena and Alton were saved. They both called to say they were… I don’t know, _teleported_ to a spot five miles down the road at the last possible second. Could it have been-…”

“You know, Mick,” Sam said, quirking a smile. “I’ve been thinking I really like what you’re doing here.”

Mick looked startled. “Yeah?”

“On one condition,” said Sam.

Mick raised his eyebrows. “The being that got your comrades out… we know it. It’s helped us a lot. But it’s under _our _protection, and we’re under _it’s _protection. And it needs to stay that way.”

Mick nodded. “Under the rug, then… and if it turns on you, or on us?”

“It won’t,” said Sam, looking around and shaking his head sadly. “I very much doubt it’ll be coming back here at all.”

Ember smiled to herself, a very bittersweet smile. Sam was right… she could never come back here now, not after teleporting Serena and Alton to safety. It was just too risky.

***Castiel POV***

November 6, Evening

“So how are things in Heaven?” Castiel asked Kelvin.

He didn’t often see angels much anymore, so he had been happy to respond when his brother had reached out to him. He missed Heaven desperately, almost as much as he missed being with Ember… not that either one of them was speaking to him.

“Functional,” said Kelvin. “You know, there’s the usual infighting, but… let’s just say that Lucifer having a baby on board has brought us all together. What you’ve done was incomprehensible, Castiel.”

“You must know I’ve tried to rectify-…”

“Not hard enough,” said the other angel. He fixed Castiel with a hard glare. “Look, I know you're working with the Winchesters. And I know you’re in love with the mother, Ember whatever-her-name-is.”

Castiel flinched. Now he remembered why he didn’t hang out with angels. 

“You ever miss it?” Kelvin asked. “Upstairs? I mean, don't get me wrong. I love Earth. It's quirky. It smells like hay. But it's not home, is it?”

“I don't believe I'm welcome in Heaven,” Castiel said, fixing Kelvin with a glare.

“No, you're not,” the other angel said. “They’re very angry, I won’t lie. But what if I told you, you could come back? That all your sins could be forgotten? Forgiven?”

“I would say that you're lying,” Castiel snapped.

“Oh, but I'm not,” Kelvin said. “Let’s face it, if Lucifer wanted to create a nephilim, he’d have done it with or without you, and he’d’ve probably even chosen Ember.”

Castiel balled his fists up.

“This child will kill her without your help,” said Kelvin. “You must know that. Birthing a nephilim would kill a normal human, but Ember’s not normal, is she? But even so, it’ll still take the powers of an angel to heal her fast enough to compensate for the birthing.” 

“I’d guessed as much,” Castiel admitted.

“I figured you had,” Kelvin said. “And I expect you planned to do the healing yourself… considering that if she dies, she _won’t _be allowed in Heaven.”

Castiel flinched, and Kelvin did not miss it. “Surely you knew that?” asked Kelvin, adopting a fake sympathetic expression.

“She earned her way to Heaven,” Castiel protested bitterly.

“True,” said Kelvin. “But this is as unforgiveable for her as it is for you. _But, _if you help us, and send her upstairs for us – or, if you’re feeling sentimental, even if you just send the _child _upstairs - you’ll both be welcome there.”

“Right,” Castiel said sarcastically. “And you have the power to do that.”

“Oh, no, I can't,” said Kelvin. “I'm just the messenger. But Joshua can.”

“Joshua,” said Castiel, remembering the Garden. “I thought he stepped aside.”

“He did,” answered Kelvin. “But like I said, all hands on deck situation. Imagine it, Castiel -- free to come and go as you please, part of your family, your true family, again. And Ember will be there too. She’ll come to terms with it, once she knows the stakes. Because we’ll track her down either way, and she _will _lose the child.”

Castiel was unsure.

“_Look,” _said Kelvin, relaxing in his seat and taking another drink. “The Gardener's got a plan. All we ask is that you hear us, hear him out. For the greater good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me awhile to get this chapter right, and to figure out exactly what I wanted to do with it. Actually the first draft of all of this had Ember living with the brothers and Cas during most of her pregnancy and running later, but it just wasn't working out right. Let me know what you think. Reviews make me SQUEEEEE!


	58. The British Invasion

***Sam POV***

December 1, Evening

**ONE MONTH LATER**

“So I was attacked by a demon at school today,” Krissy said to Sam upon arriving at the bunker Friday evening.

Dean and Sam had been lost in research, but both immediately put their books down and rushed over to the teenager. “Krissy! Why didn’t you call us earlier?” asked Sam.

“It was no problem,” Krissy said, helping herself to a beer from the fridge. “Actually he was really bad at fighting. It was no big.”

“_One,”_ Sam said sharply, eyeing the beer in Krissy’s hand. The 19-year-old rolled her eyes.

“So, tell us,” said Dean.

“OK, so I could tell I was being followed. And not the ‘good’ kind of followed, you know? This was the ‘creepy’ kind of followed. And so finally I turned around-…”

“Next time, _call us,”_ said Sam.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Krissy said, blowing him off. “Anyway, I turned around, and there was a man behind me, and his eyes turned black. So I pulled out my angel blade. And we squared off, but then I started playing an exorcism on my phone. So we fought for a little bit, but near the end of the exorcism he disappeared.”

Sam and Dean gave each other a significant look. Sam sighed. “Well, we knew this was going to happen,” he said. “I’m just glad you were prepared to handle it.”

Krissy stared at them with defiance. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to catch or kill the bastard,” she said.

“You’re only 19, Kris,” said Sam. “I was 22 before I went up against a demon.”

This made Krissy beam with pride, which Sam hoped would prepare the girl for his next words. “Dean and I are going to accompany you to school for the next couple of weeks,” he said. “When is school out, in the middle of the month or something?” Krissy nodded. “Okay. I don’t think we can make it every day, but we’ll make it most of them, between the two of us. It’s what Ember would want.”

Dean nodded, as though the matter were decided. “Krissy… what did you mean earlier when you said ‘The ‘good’ kind of followed?’”

Krissy chewed on her lip, turning away. “It’s stupid,” she said.

Sam and Dean gave each other a significant look. “Kris, those hunter senses are never ‘stupid.’ And yours are nearly always right.”

Krissy sighed, and it appeared for a second as though she was making up her mind about whether or not to discuss something. Finally, she nodded. “It’s… well, over the last few months, I’ve almost felt like Ember was… watching me. Only sometimes. Only once in awhile. And it’s almost always at the school. But… maybe it’s just wishful thinking,” she added hurriedly.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam said.

“It only happens once in awhile,” Krissy admitted. “Maybe once or twice each week, for an hour or so. And… I didn’t want you to think I was… I don’t know, making things up. Wishful thinking, you know.”

“If that’s what your instincts tell you, _listen _to them,” said Sam. “You’re a great hunter, especially for your age. And being a good hunter isn’t about shooting a gun, or knowing your lore, though that’s part of it. A lot of it is about instinct. And if your instinct says Ember is there… she probably is.”

To tell the truth, Sam had been thinking this as well, for awhile. Sometimes he got the strangest feeling that he was being watched, and he would think about Ember, only to shrug it off as nerves or wishful thinking. It wasn’t nearly as often as Krissy reported – maybe once every couple of weeks. But if all of them were having the same instinct, that was certainly a place to start.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It was the following Tuesday when Sam got the odd feeling again, as though he was being watched, but (for once) not in a bad way. This _had_ to work. It _had_ to. Sam was outside of Krissy’s English class, and he had never felt the feeling this strongly.

“Ember, _please,” _he said in a quiet voice. It was the speech all three of them had practiced. “I know you’re there. You’re nearly nine months along now. Everyone – Heaven, Hell, and everyone in between – knows you’re on the run, and as of last week, news of the child has even reached the Men of Letters. They came to the bunker and confronted us last week. _Please_ come home. None of us have been in touch with Castiel for over a month. We can figure out what to do _together_, me, you, Dean, and Krissy. Or even just me, you, and Dean, if you like. We promise, we won’t try to hurt the child.”

There was nothing. Finally, slowly, an invisible hand slipped into his own.

***Ember POV***

December 5, Evening

Ember slid, invisible, into the front seat of the Impala. They were still in view of the security cameras at the school, so all three would need to fit into the front seat. Ember moved close enough to inhale Dean’s familiar smell, and it was the most comforting thing she’d felt in a very long time. She still wasn’t sure about this decision, but just being back in the Impala made her feel less on edge than she’d felt in months.

“Jesus, Ember, I can barely steer,” Dean said, feeling the pressure of her arm against his. “I’ll take that to mean you found her, Sam.”

“You’re not usually content to be left in the getaway car,” Ember commented to Dean conversationally as they drove away from Krissy’s school. “Why didn’t you come inside?”

The brothers shared a look, passing right through Ember. “Sam felt it would’ve scared you off if we’d both been there,” said Dean begrudgingly.

Ember considered this. “He was right,” Ember said finally. “When the brothers come together, it means business.”

Dean laughed, and the brothers and Ember lapsed into friendly conversation for a long time as they drove to the bunker. Dean had texted Krissy and told her to join them after her classes were done for the day. Ember was in a good mood, and looking forward to seeing them.

Finally, at a lull in the conversation, Sam began the list of questions that Ember knew had been coming. “Ember… what made you finally decide to come with us?”

“Desperation,” Ember said, after taking a minute to think on the subject. “But I’m _still_ not sure I made the right decision.” She felt Sam’s hand, still in her own, give a squeeze.

“How close are you?” asked Dean. “To your due date.”

“Not sure,” Ember said. “Maybe two weeks at most? Ready to pop, it feels like. I’m due the 20th…”

“How do you know?” asked Dean, turning to look at her.

“The internet, combined with date of conception,” Ember said dryly. “That, and the OBGYN’s office I snuck into at 3AM in Connecticut.”

“And… any thoughts on the father?” Sam asked gently.

“It’s Cas,” Ember said immediately.

“Ember,” said Dean in what Ember knew was his best attempt to be gentle. “Are you _sure? _I mean, don’t you think it’s just wishful-…”

“You know how I told Sam it was a premonition, when I showed up when headquarters was under attack by vampires?” Ember asked.

“You lied,” said Sam. “I kind of suspected it, actually.”

“Yeah,” Ember admitted. “I’ve only ever had premonitions about Lucifer, back when his powers were making me stronger. But these past few months, I’ve had them _only_ about Cas.”

“But Lucifer was there too, when you showed up at the rock concert,” protested Dean.

“Yeah, but how do you explain Ramiel?” asked Ember, and Sam nodded.

“Ember… how does that work, exactly?” Sam asked. “I mean, I don’t doubt that you’re right, but at the time you would’ve – ehm, conceived, Castiel was possessed by Lucifer.”

Ember was silent for a minute, then admitted, “There was a lot of, um, fighting for control of the driver’s seat. At, um, certain key times.”

There was an awkward silence, and Dean tightened his grip on the wheel. Sam shot a worried look in Ember’s general direction and squeezed her hand again.

Finally, Ember said, “Sam, I take it you figured out I was spending time at the college?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Krissy got attacked by a demon on Friday.”

“Oh my gosh!” Ember exclaimed. “Is she-…”

“She’s fine. But when we were talking about it, she admitted that sometimes she felt like you were there, just watching her. And I’ve felt like that too, occasionally. I figured… I hoped it wasn’t a coincidence.” 

“She’s smart, that girl,” Ember said proudly. “Damn your hunter’s intuition.” It would be nice to go back to the bunker for a couple of weeks. She didn’t have the energy to keep moving. Sam and Dean were right – by now, the fact that she was on the run must’ve been leaked to everyone in both Heaven and Hell. She would still leave again closer to her due date – she wouldn’t let them watch her die. But, she could rest up before then. She was honestly deathly underweight for what she should’ve been, and she hadn’t been sleeping well. She was embarrassingly close to falling over from exhaustion and hunger from being on the run for so long, not to mention the lack of actual human contact, plus the pregnancy.

But now, for better or for worse, she could see the people she loved again before she died.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember was looking forward to a peaceful night in the bunker, but apparently this just wasn’t in the cards. When the group arrived at the bunker, there was already another guest waiting outside for them.

“Who’s that and what’s her angle?” asked Ember suspiciously.

Dean turned toward Sam, and Ember noted with surprise that Sam seemed to have taken offense to Ember’s comment. “Her name’s Eileen,” Sam said. “And she’s a friend. We’ve asked her to help us track down some leads on Dagon.”

“Oh,” said Ember guiltily. Then she added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so suspicious.”

“It’s understandable,” Sam said. “We’ll hear her out, and then we’ll send her on her way.”

But Sam looked like someone had kicked his puppy. Did Sam _like _this girl? Ember raised her eyebrow at Dean, then remembered that he couldn’t see her. “That’s not necessary, Sam,” Ember said. “Is there somewhere you could hide me overnight? Preferably somewhere with a soft bed…”

“You can stay in my room,” said Dean. Then, seeming to sense what Ember was thinking, he added, “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything of you. You’re nine months pregnant, anyway.”

“It’s really fine,” Sam said. “We’re happy to have you back, and we don’t want to-…”

“Sam,” Ember said. “She just got here, same as me. Neither of us are leaving. The bunker’s big enough. Let her stay the night. Plus, it’ll look suspicious if you hint at her to leave.” Sam smiled in Ember’s general direction, looking relieved. He _did_ like her!

Ten minutes later, Sam and Eileen were seated at the kitchen table. Dean stood near them, and Ember crouched in a corner, unseen and unheard. Her legs were stretched out parallel to the wall to accommodate her wide belly.

“So, have you found anything about Ember?” Eileen asked Dean and Sam. Ember could tell that she was deaf, but also intelligent, and knew how to read lips.

“No,” said Dean, lying easily. “Not a trace.”

Eileen nodded. “All my information says she’s still on the run, too.”

“What about Dagon?” Sam asked, changing the subject.

Eileen’s eyes lit up. “So, I ran the plates of every car that drove past that warehouse in Idaho just before it burned down. Most of them were local, but one wasn't. It came up registered to Dermott Culp.”

“So...”

“So he went missing a year ago,” said Eileen.

“Okay.”

“I tracked his car to Iowa,” finished Eileen. “Found him coming out of a building carrying a dead body.”

“So Dermott's a killer?” asked Dean.

“Dermott's a demon,” Eileen answered.

“Uh, one of Crowley's?” asked Sam.

“Works for Dagon,” said Eileen. “Covers her tracks.”

“Smart,” said Eileen.

“Dude, don't compliment the bad guys,” said Dean, and Ember held in a snicker.

Eileen and Sam laughed.

“Uh... So do you know where Dagon is now?” asked Sam.

“No,” said Eileen. “But before Dermott got stabbed in the heart...”

“Nice,” said Dean.

“Mm-hmm,” agreed Eileen, taking the compliment. “He gave me her phone number.” She handed Sam a piece of paper.

“Nice,” said Sam.

Suddenly, the phone rang. “I’ll get it,” said Dean.

When he returned a second later, he had a frown on his face. “The Men of Letters want to meet with us tomorrow to discuss the situation with Ember,” he said grouchily.

“Tell them we’re not interested,” said Sam.

“They’ve offered to give us back the Colt,” said Dean.

There was a small pause. “Fine,” said Sam quietly. “Tell them we can meet tomorrow, at headquarters,” said Sam. “Tell them we had an urgent case and we’ll be busy until then.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember was more relieved than words could express when she was able to become visible in the comfort of Dean’s room twenty minutes later. Sam and Eileen were still up having drinks and talking, but Dean had excused himself to go to bed, and Ember had taken her cue and followed him. Krissy was waiting in Dean’s bedroom as well.

“Jesus, you’re pregnant,” Krissy said, inspecting her finally and giving her a big hug.

“You’re also thin,” Dean said. “Here, I’ve got snacks in one of these drawers. It’ll look too suspicious if I head back to the kitchen.”

Ember gratefully took the chips Dean offered as Krissy said, “Why did you stay away so long?”

“To protect you, mostly,” Ember said. 

“Bullshit,” Krissy said. “We’ve always had angels and demons looking for us. This would just be another day.”

“Not like this,” Ember said. “At least when we were on the run from the angels, we had Cas’ protection. But now, every single angel in Heaven, _including _Castiel, and every single demon in Hell is looking for me – not to keep me alive, but so that they can wait for me to die and then raise my _son_ how _they _see fit.”

She turned to Krissy. “Look, I want to thank you. God, you’ve been amazing. You know I’ve been watching you at school. I’m so _proud_ of you. But you have to understand that hiding for this long was an absolute necessity. I’m still not sure if it was a good idea for me to finally come out… but at least by now, every demon and angel in Heaven and Hell alike knows that I’m on the run, and far, _far _away from all of you.”

It was wonderful to see Krissy again. Eventually, however, Krissy had to go to bed. She had a class the following afternoon that she couldn’t miss, which meant she’d need to make the drive back to Conway Springs in the early morning.

Ember turned to Dean to have a much-needed conversation with him, knowing that this conversation would be much less fun.

Dean looked at her closely. “So you do understand that birthing this child _will _kill you?”

Ember nodded. “Without Castiel, yes. And I don’t think I’ll get his help.”

Dean scoffed. “Apparently not. Right now, we haven’t even _heard_ from him for two months.”

“He went up to Heaven,” Ember said. “I saw it in a vision.”

Dean looked at her in surprise.

“He _really _doesn’t want me to have this child,” Ember said. She left out the part about her not being allowed into Heaven. “Chuck was right, in the end – it’s in his wiring. He’s planning something with the angels, but I can’t see them there. I don’t know what.”

Dean looked at her, cocking his head. “It really _is_ Castiel’s child, isn’t it?”

Ember nodded.

“You really love him, don’t you? Even after everything.”

Ember nodded again. “I’m sorry, Dean. I hope…” she rolled her eyes. “I hope when you find someone, it turns out better than this.”

There was a flash in Dean’s eyes that Ember recognized. “Oh my gosh, Dean, who is she?” Ember asked excitedly. “Do I know her?”

Dean gave her an annoyed look. “Don’t you think this is the wrong place, and with the wrong person, to discuss…”

Ember bowed her head. “Sorry,” she said.

There was a few moments of awkward silence, until Sam came into the room. Ember guessed that he only had a few seconds before he had to be back with Eileen, because he spoke quickly. “Ember, I-… Wow, you’re…”

“Pregnant,” Dean finished for him.

“And _thin,”_ Sam said. “When I get a chance, I’ll bring you something from the kitchen.”

Ember nodded her thanks.

“Ember, you’re not going to take off tomorrow when we meet with the Men of Letters, are you? I mean… you understand why we have to go…?”

“I know what the Colt means to you,” Ember said honestly. “You _do _have to go. Actually, I kind of wanted to go with you.”

“_What?”_ said both Dean and Sam, obviously caught off guard by this.

“Know your enemy,” Ember said. “I need to know what they know. And they won’t expect me to be there, so they won’t have set traps.”

“But you spent all of those months hiding!” Dean exclaimed.

Ember shrugged. “It’s crunch time. My days are numbered, especially without Cas on board. And I’m out of options.”

Sam thought for a minute, then seemed to accept this. “You know we’ll protect you,” he said, and turned to leave.

“Sam, wait!” Ember said, and Sam turned back.

“You _like_ her,” Ember said, smiling at him. “It’s good to see you happy. You should ask her out. She likes you, too.”

“See, dude, I’ve been _telling_ you-…” started Dean.

“Give it a _rest_,” Sam snapped at Dean. But when he turned to Ember, he said, “She’s not typically easily trusting. But, after tomorrow, maybe I _will.”_

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The following night, Ember waited silently and invisibly at the Men of Letters headquarters. It had been a good day at the bunker. She’d had a lot to eat, which had been the first time in what seemed like forever. Not that she didn’t have access to food whenever she wanted, because it had been easy to steal it. Still, she was only now beginning to realize how little she’d been feeling like eating. She had missed Sam and Dean so much, more than she could say.

Finally, two cars pulled up. One was the Impala, containing Dean, Sam, and Eileen. The other contained Mick Davies and a young blond man whom Ember immediately disliked.

“I thought you'd be coming alone,” said Sam immediately to Mick. Ember could tell that Sam didn’t like the blond man either.

“Well, I thought we'd gotten past our trust issues,” said Mick. “This is Renny Rawlings. New man.”

Ember had watched Mick enough by now to know that he wasn’t too thrilled about Renny either.

“Right. I'm Sam,” said Sam. “This is Eileen Leahy.”

“Ah, the banshee girl,” said Renny.

Eileen looked surprised.

“We have a file,” Renny explained. “From what Mick tells me, neither of you have any formal training. Fascinating. I was top of my class at Kendricks...”

“No one cares,” said Eileen and Dean at once, and Sam smirked. Ember once again held in a chuckle.

“I brought the Colt,” said Mick. “Just like you asked. I know you need it for Dagon, when you finally find her. But it's gotta go back to HQ afterward.”

“Gee, Mick,” said Sam. “I thought we'd gotten past the trust issues.”

“Hmm,” said Mick. He seemed to decide it was best to change the subject. “OK, so this meeting is… well, I guess it’s to come to a meeting of the minds about the nephilim, and to decide the best course of action.”

“I’ve brought along the note Ember left us, before she took off,” said Sam, passing Mick the sheet of paper from so many months ago.

Mick read it through. “Castiel?” he asked.

“Lucifer was possessing Castiel’s otherwise empty vessel at the time.”

“So the nephilim is only _possibly _Lucifer’s child,” Mick confirmed. “But this is the first I’ve heard of this.”

Dean nodded. “Hell wants to think it’s Lucifer’s child. Heaven doesn’t want it at all.” Between himself and Sam, they explained the situation as best they could. They even explained to Mick about Ember’s premonitions, though they made it sound like their own idea rather than hers.

“Ember and Castiel have saved the world several times over,” Sam said. “Your intelligence alone should tell you that. They didn’t mean to create a child, but now that they have, we owe it to them to leave them in peace. They can raise the child up to be on the side of good.”

“The primary objective now needs to be to go after Dagon,” said Dean. “Regardless of what happens with the baby, she’s a far more dangerous objective right now.”

Mick seemed to be considering Sam’s words. “I agree that Dagon needs dealt with,” he said. “But I still think it’s unwise to leave this child to chance. What assurances can you give me that the child _will _be raised on the side of good, or even that it’s Castiel’s child? If Castiel himself denies the child, and Ember dies giving birth, there are no guarantees of this._”_

“This is absurd!” said the blond man suddenly. “Mick, are you actually even _considering _this nonsense?” Ember had instantly disliked him, and it appeared her instincts had been proven right. 

Just then, however, the wind picked up, as if a storm were approaching. Ember had no warning. One second she was watching the Winchesters argue her side to the British Men of Letters, and the next moment a Japanese-looking woman had appeared right in the middle of their tiny circle. 

“Hey,” said Dagon, without preamble. And quicker than lightning, Sam, Dean, Eileen, Mick, and Renny were flung through the air, landing heavily. 

Dean and Mick recovered and then attempted to shoot at Dagon, but bullets had no effect on her. She threw them aside and began walking up to Ember. Ember made an attempt to teleport, but found that she couldn’t. “Don’t even try it,” Dagon said. “It’s spelled.” She came closer to Ember, sneering. “Do you know how long it’s taken to find you, much less get you in a situation like this? But I _knew _you’d return to the Winchesters eventually.”

Her eyes flashed back. “But the wards,” Mick stuttered.

Dagon turned to Mick sharply. “Those things don’t work on a demon like me,” she said.

In the corner of her eyes, Ember watched Eileen inch toward the Colt. The blond man, Renny, was recovering as well, and picking up his gun to shoot Dagon. Ember summoned every ounce of power she had and blasted it at Dagon.

Dagon only laughed. “Even with that child inside you, you’re still not more powerful than me. Scarily close, though.” Without warning, she clamped a pair of handcuffs on Ember’s wrist. “These are made especially for you,” she said. “Had to kill about seven priests and eight witches for them. Worth it, though.” 

Eileen had the Colt, and was holding it toward Dagon. And then, suddenly, Dagon had grabbed her, and they were teleporting away.

***Sam POV***

December 6, Night

It was as though everything was happening in slow motion. Eileen had Dagon in her sights with the Colt. Sam thought perhaps she might even kill the demon…

But then Dagon had disappeared with Ember, and the shot hit Renny instead in the chest. The young man from the Men of Letters fell dead upon the spot.

There was a beat of silence as everyone tried to figure out how to react.

“I didn't... I didn't mean to,” Eileen said to Mick in protest. “I was shooting at the demon. I'm –…”

“No, no, wait up,” Sam said, catching her before she got any closer to Mick. “It was an accident. It's all right.”

Mick pulled out his gun and approached Eileen.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you doing?” screamed Dean.

“Hey!” yelled Sam, standing in front of Eileen.

“She killed a Man of Letters!” said Mick. “S-she has to die.”

“It was an accident!” Sam said angrily. He would not, _could _not let her die…

“It doesn't matter! The Code!”

“No, hey, screw the Code,” said Dean.

“Don't make this harder than it already is,” said Mick.

“Mick, you don't have to do this,” said Dean, now holding his gun on Mick.

“Yes, I do!”

“Please,” said Eileen. “Don't.”

“Mick, Mick, listen to me,” said Sam, still shielding Eileen. “Mick, look, I-I know you guys h-have this Men of Letters Code you blindly answer to, but... look, you don't have to do that, Mick. You're better than that. You only have to answer to yourself. You only have to do what you know is right. You only have to answer to your own code.” He knew Mick was a Man of Letters, and they came with a rigid code… but he also knew that Mick was a good person at heart. With them, he had started to learn shades of grey…

Mick slowly lowered his gun. “Just go,” he snapped.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Eileen had been silent on the way home. Sam knew she was more comfortable around him than around Dean, so perhaps when they got back to the bunker she would be willing to talk more with him. Dean knew this as well, and he knew his brother would give them some space.

He and Eileen had known each other for just under a year now, but over the past few months they’d been talking more and more. He’d even learned some sign language so that he could talk with her better, a fact which Dean had teased him mercilessly about since he’d discovered it a month ago.

Sam had only been truly in love twice – once with Jess, obviously, and with Amelia while Dean was in Purgatory. Both times, falling in love had felt like this. Had Ember been around the past few months, Sam felt sure that Ember would’ve told him that he and Eileen were destined to be together, and that he had finally found his perfect match.

But Ember _hadn’t_ been around the past few months, and now she was gone again. And now, Eileen had killed a Man of Letters.

“You okay?” Dean asked when they returned to the bunker.

Eileen nodded yes, but then shook her head, tears in her eyes. “No. He wasn’t a monster. He was… I…”

Sam turned Eileen to face him. “Hey… It was a mistake.” He signed “mistake.”

Eileen reached for him, and he pulled her into a hug. It felt good to finally hold her, but he wished it were under better circumstances.

“Well, if it’s okay with you two, I’m gonna hit the hay,” Dean said, interrupting Sam’s train of thought. “Tomorrow we’ll have to start over with new plans, and I need some sleep.”

It was bullshit, Sam knew. Dean would be up all night worrying about Ember, and making as many plans as he could from his room and the Men of Letters library. In the morning, Sam would find him in the library with his face in a book, or else in his bed with a book open on his chest. Sam appreciated what Dean was doing, though. If the night had ended better, Dean might’ve given him a wink or a crooked grin, but after things had gone so poorly Sam wasn’t expecting it.

Once they were alone, Sam led Eileen to the kitchen. “Beer?” he asked.

“Something stronger,” she said. “Thanks for letting me stay another night.”

“You should stay longer,” he said. “You might be hunted. I know the Men of Letters a bit, and Mick is by far the most lenient of the lot. I… I hate to say this, because it’s horrible and it’s unfair. But Mick wasn’t letting you off the hook tonight… he was giving you a head start.”

“I had guessed that,” she said. There was silence for a minute while Sam turned around to grab the whiskey and some beer, and sat down at the table. He was careful with Eileen – she was smart and intuitive, but she couldn’t read his lips if he was facing the other way.

“Eileen, anything you need, please just let us know,” he said. 

“Thanks,” she said, taking a strong swig of the whiskey. “But you’ve done enough. I’ll be gone in the morning. I don’t want to bring my problems on you.”

Sam rolled his eyes at the woman. “My brother’s ex-girlfriend is birthing a nephilim within the month. Trust me, a friend of mine being hunted by the Men of Letters is small peanuts.”

Eileen laughed, and it seemed to him to even be genuine. “Fair point,” she admitted.

They spent another two hours drinking and talking. It was odd, because it should’ve been a horrible night, but by the end of it somehow they were both laughing. They would begin to laugh, and then give each other a “look” when one of them remembered that Sam’s best friend had been captured by a Prince (or was it Princess?) of Hell, or that Eileen had shot a Man of Letters and would be hunted. It was, Sam decided, two people that were desperate for each other’s company, under horrible circumstances.

Sam had never been good at making the first move in a relationship – that had always been Dean’s specialty. True to form, after two hours, he realized that she was about to slip away from him, and he hadn’t said or done anything to announce his feelings for her, or subtly hint at his intentions.

Finally, after three hours, Eileen said, “I’ve really liked catching up with you, but I’ve gotta get to bed.”

Sam looked at his watch – it really was getting late. “Okay,” he said. This was his opportunity, and he didn’t know when – or even _if_ – he’d see her again.

“Hey, Sam,” she said, “Can I sleep in your room tonight? I don’t want to be… alone… after what happened.”

He looked at her, startled.

“I mean, it’s not a big deal, if-…”

“No,” Sam said, tripping over his words. “I mean, that would be… fine.” He’d almost said _great._

Once they got to Sam’s room, however, he was yet again at a loss for what to do next. It was so much easier when he didn’t _like_ the girl. If he was at a bar and felt a bit of a connection with someone, (or if a girl was good-looking), it was fairly easy to say, “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” and find a sleezy motel. “How close is your place?” was another of Dean’s personal favorites that had worked for Sam a few times. But Eileen was smart, and intuitive, and, like Sam, trusted no one.

But then she was kissing him, and her lips were feather soft. She pulled back, trying to read his reaction. “I figure… if they’re coming after me anyway, and I might die tomorrow…”

Suddenly, Sam seemed to remember how to string words together. “Eileen… if we do this… do it because you have feelings for me. Not because you think it’s your last night on Earth.”

She seemed to consider this, then finally gave a smile. “Okay, then.” She lifted up on her tiptoes to kiss him, and he sunk into the kiss. It was as though he hadn’t allowed himself to feel almost anything for the woman, until this moment; he had denied everything he had felt for a year, now, if he was honest with himself. But it had bled over the edges of the dams he had put up, until he had found himself thinking of her constantly lately. He could tell from this kiss that she was feeling the same.

The kiss turned heated and she pushed further, reaching for his shirt. The height was awkward, though, because Sam was so much taller than her. Once his shirt had been discarded he lowered her onto the bed, more as a matter of convenience than because he thought they were ready. He pulled at her shirt, then, and she moved upward to shrug it off until it joined his on the floor.

He nipped at her neck and moved downward, pulling off her bra as he went. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbled against her skin, then remembered that she couldn’t hear him and felt embarrassed. Instead, he signed the word into her chest, meeting her eyes briefly.

“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” she said, giggling.

Though he knew she hadn’t meant it in a mean or testing way, he felt almost insulted by it in her defense. He almost said, “But I don’t always mean it.” Instead, he pulled back to look at her, and said what he truly felt: “Never in my own bed.” It had taken him so long to feel at home here at the bunker, and now that he did, Eileen was the only woman he wanted to share this room with him, ever.

She took this as the compliment it was intended to be, lifting up toward him to feel his hardness. He moaned into her neck, and in the next five seconds both pairs of pants joined the shirts on the floor.

Sam was not the kind of man to take these things for granted, and he kissed down her stomach, asking permission with his eyes to go lower. She granted it with a smile, allowing him to slowly pull down her panties. He had the impression that she wanted it hard and fast, but she didn’t take these things for granted either.

When he tasted her she began to moan, and it wasn’t long before she was shaking, her climax sending shock waves through her body. She sought out his hand as she climaxed and squeezed it, staring into his eyes. He thought he could see fear reflected in them, but he wasn’t sure whether it was a fear of dying, or her feelings, or both. Then it was gone, and there was only bliss.

After a second she had grasped his boxers and yanked them down, and Sam’s mind snapped back to the moment. “You’re uh…” she said, looking up at him. “I don’t know if I can…” 

He nodded, understanding what she was asking, and laid down on the bed next to her. She wasted no time, and Sam felt her mouth close around him. A moan flung its way out of his throat, but then the feeling was gone and Sam felt suddenly cold.

He realized suddenly that she was on top of him.

“Wait,” Sam said between gritted teeth, and against everything he desired.

“’On the pill,” she said.

He knew he was beginning to turn red. “It’s only, I’d feel better if-…”

But she smiled. “’Probably why I like you so much.” She sat back a little, and Sam hurriedly stood up and grabbed for the condoms Dean had slipped into his pocket earlier. 

“These are called condoms,” Dean had told him.

“Jerk,” he’d snapped at his brother. “It’s been a minute, but it hasn’t been _that _long.” Truthfully, though, he was truly thankful for Dean, because he honestly didn’t exactly keep a supply of condoms in his bedroom.

He was just wondering how to resume his previous activities when Eileen took matters out of his hands. A few seconds later she was lowering herself down on him, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Mmm,” she answered, and began moving. 

It went on forever, and not long enough, and she was beautiful. After he knew she was used to his size, he moved them until he was on top. He had never felt like this, completely lost in someone – not since Amelia, and Jessica. And all too soon it was over, and he could feel her clenching around him, her back arching in her orgasm. He followed her shortly after.

It took a few minutes for both of them to catch their breath. When Eileen looked at him again, Sam saw, for sure this time, the fear in her eyes.

He smiled at her. “We should really make this a thing,” he said.

She laughed. “The sex?”

“The everything,” he said, completely serious.

She looked at him, smiling wanly. “I don’t know how to do relationships,” she admitted.

“Neither do I,” he said.

She looked at him again, clearly carefully weighing her answer. Finally she said, “You are pretty good at sign language.”

He smiled back at her, kissing her slowly again.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“So, how’s Eileen?” Dean asked Sam the next day after he had walked Eileen out.

Sam shook his head. “’Wish I could’ve convinced her to stay. But she’s promised to keep in touch.”

“She wasn’t in the spare room when I woke up,” Dean said. “So I’m _assuming _she found her way to yours.”

“Mmm,” Sam said, non-committally. He was really, _really_ trying to hide a grin, but it was useless. He was optimistic, even if Dean wasn’t. Eileen knew how to take care of herself better than any woman he’d ever known, with the possible exception of Ember. And they still had almost two weeks… they would figure out a way to get Ember back.

Still, Sam knew Dean didn’t share his optimism. If it weren’t for Ember, Sam knew Dean would’ve put him through a marathon of 20 questions and possibly even played some appropriate post-sex music, like _Night Moves_ by Bob Seger. Instead, his brother settled for, “At least _one _of us is getting laid.”

Sam decided to attempt to distract his brother. “We’ve got kind of a – a thing, now. I think she’ll be coming around more often.”

Dean turned to look at Sam. He wasn’t smiling, but at least he looked mildly interested. “’Ya tell her you were into her after or before she was naked?”

“Dude. After.”

“Wow,” said Dean. “Good for you, man.” He turned back to the fridge and brought out some beers. “So, if we’re done with sharing and caring time, I’ve got a few new ideas.”

Well, so much for distracting his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up super long. I just couldn't find a decent place to make a break. Oh well!   
I LOVE the Sam and Eileen pairing, btw.


	59. The Future

***Ember POV***

December 9, Night

Ember had waited 3 days on a rescue attempt, but none had come. She was getting desperate. She was due in just over a week. There had been so many possibilities – her dying, her living, Sam and Dean raising the child, her and Castiel raising the child. Of all of those, the possibility of Dagon raising the child was the absolute worst. Everything she knew, everything she had worked for these past few months, had come to a screeching halt the moment Dagon had found her. She _knew _she should’ve stayed on the run. 

But she’d been weak. She’d needed the human interaction. Hell, she’d needed someone to remind her to eat, if her behavior at the bunker had been any indication. And now she was paying for it.

But how would it have ended in the end? She’d always been the type to agonize over big decisions, but try as she might she had never been able to come up with a solid plan for this child. Castiel’s assertions that the child had to die had not helped. The best plan she’d had before Sam found her at the school had been to secretly have the child in the bunker and hope that Sam and Dean would find it in a timely manner, and would follow her wishes and not kill the child after her death. Frankly, that had been a terrible plan. 

Still, Dagon was a fate worse than death, for both her and her child.

Finally, after 3 days, Ember turned to extreme measures.

“Cas… I know we’ve had our ups and downs,” Ember prayed that night. “But… Dagon’s got me. I don’t know where, either… she blindfolded me. They say birthing this child is going to kill me, and… I know for sure it _will_ kill me without you here to help. And that will leave her raising this child. And all the fighting we did, and going back and forth about whether the child is yours or Lucifer’s… none of that means anything anymore, if she raises this child. I’d rather _both_ of us die than have this child be born into the world with Dagon raising it. Please, help me. Tell Dean and Sam I’m okay. Tell them I love them. Tell them to come for me… tell them _all _to come for me.”

***Castiel POV***

December 10, Evening

_“Tell them to come for me… tell them _all_ to come for me…”_

He was on his way. He had to be ready when he got to her, however. It was for this reason that he had arrived at the bunker.

“Cas!” Sam said with surprise.

“Hello,” he answered.

“Hey, you’re alright!” Sam said. “Um – where have you been?” Sam said. “And – is there any chance you’ve heard from Ember?”

“Cas!” Dean said suddenly, spying Castiel for the first time as he walked into the room. “Where the hell have you been? And why have you ignored our phone calls?”

“I was in Heaven,” Castiel answered. “I was working with the angels to figure out if there was another way to solve the issue of Lucifer’s child. But – yes, Ember has prayed to me.”

“She’s alright?” asked Sam. “Where is she?”

“She’s fine,” said Castiel. “Scared, though. But… I don’t know where she is.”

It was a lie. He knew exactly where she was. For once, the angels had good intelligence.

Dean looked crestfallen. Sam offered, “Well, at least you’re back. We’re glad you’re back.”

“Really?” Dean snapped at both of them. “No, I'm sorry. Because while you were kissing ass in Heaven, Ember got kidnapped _in the first place. _At least last week, all we had to worry about was whether she _lived _or _died_ out there on her own, since you refuse to work with her to protect _your _child. But now? Now she’s running around with a God damned Princess of Hell when she’s ready to pop._”_

Castiel wanted to disappear like he had so many months ago, but he resisted the urge. He was here on a mission. Anyway, Dean was partially right. “I know,” said Castiel finally. “I’m sorry.” At least that part was true. This whole trip to the bunker was starting to remind him of the year he had spent deceiving the Winchesters. He was determined, though. Even Ember would understand, in the end. She’d have to. It was the only way to keep her alive, _and_ secure her place in Heaven…

“What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Dean continued. “You know what? Whatever. Welcome back.” And he stomped away to his room.

It took Castiel awhile to be sure, but by four hours later he was sure that the item he was looking for – the reason he’d _really_ returned to the bunker – was nowhere to be found except for possibly in Dean’s or Sam’s room. Steeling himself, Castiel knocked on the door to Dean’s room. “Sorry, Dean,” he said. “Um, I just wanted to return this.” He handed Dean the cassette tape that Dean had given him some time ago.

“It's a gift,” Dean snapped. “You keep those.”

“Oh,” Castiel said. Was it under his pillow, perhaps? That seemed like a very “Dean” thing to do.

“Cas, you can't –…” Dean started. He collected himself, then continued. “With everything that's going on, you can't just go dark like that. We didn't know what happened to you. We were worried. That's not okay.”

_Just a little bit closer to the bed… _ “Well, I didn't mean to add to your distress. I – Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again. When you were taken, I searched for months and I couldn't find you. And then Lucifer… And now Ember’s been taken, and I can't find her. I just… wanted to do something right. And the angels… I thought I could convince them… I don’t know, maybe find a way to remove the child’s grace, or… if there were _some_ way…”

“The angels weren’t having it?”

Castiel shook his head. “Even if we remove the child’s grace - which will be excruciating for him by the way - there’s no way to destroy a grace permanently except the death of the angel it’s tied to. We would always have to worry. It’s – I mean, they feel it’s more trouble than it’s worth.” _Got it!_ It _had _been under Dean’s pillow.

Dean sighed. “You think you're the only one rolling snake eyes here? One minute Ember was with us, and the next she was teleported to who knows where. And we have _no idea_ where to even _start…_” There were dark circles under Dean’s eyes, and Castiel could tell that Dean hadn’t slept since Ember had been kidnapped.

“Dean,” Castiel started. “What if…” he sighed. “The angels say that if Ember has this child, she won’t be allowed in Heaven.”

Dean froze, then looked at Castiel in shock. “That’s not fair. She worked _so _hard to earn her place there!”

“I know,” said Castiel. “But they won’t budge.”

Dean was quiet for a second, then asked, “Where would she go? When she passes?”

“To the Empty, I suppose,” said Castiel.

Dean sighed. “Well, she’s in the same boat as Sam and I, then,” he said. “Death has told us we’ll go the Empty, when we die.”

Castiel looked stunned by this. “Dean, that’s not good!”

“Cas, I’ve been to Hell and Purgatory,” Dean reminded his friend. “What’s so bad about the Empty?”

“Well, nothing,” Castiel admitted. “I think you forever sleep there. Just… for everything you’ve done, and Ember, too… you all should go to Heaven.”

Dean nodded. “I agree. But, Death disagrees, apparently.”

Castiel tried again. It was his last hope. Perhaps Dean would help him with what he had to do, if he could only make Dean understand… “Dean… when we find Ember, what are we going to do?”

“What do you mean what are we going to do?” asked Dean. “We’re going to bring her home.”

“No, I mean what are we going to do _about the baby?_ There’s no more time to… to decide…”

Dean shrugged. “I’ve already decided. I’ve told you. If it’s evil, we’ll kill it. Or we’ll remove the grace. But Sam and Ember are right, we’ll find a better way, Cas.”

“We?” Castiel asked.

“Yes, dumbass. We. You, me, Ember, and Sam, we're just better together. So now that you're back, let's go, Team Free Will. Let's get it done.”

“I'd like that,” Castiel lied, his heart sinking. He was all alone, then.

***Ember POV***

December 11, Evening

Forty-eight hours later, nobody had shown up. 

Castiel was her only hope, truly. She couldn’t get a message to Sam and Dean without him, or anyone, for that matter. At least with Castiel, there was a _chance – _a very small _chance_ he might leave her baby alive.

“Hey,” said Dagon, interrupting Ember’s thoughts. “Vitamin time.”

“Bite me,” said Ember.

“Don’t,” said Dagon seriously. Ember shoved Dagon with her force powers, but the demon was quite a bit more powerful, particularly with the handcuffs she still wore. “Be a good girl,” she snapped, holding Ember steady with one hand and opening her jaw with the other. Ember made an attempt to spit out the Vitamins, but Dagon forced them down her throat. 

“Really, Ember? Not taking your pills? And the escape attempts are getting ridiculous.” Both of them looked down at her wrist, which was broken from when Ember had attempted to take off her handcuffs. “Stop disrespecting the God inside of you.”

“Fuck you,” said Ember.

“Fine!” said Dagon. “Go ahead. Play your games. But whether you're healthy or sick, he will be born. And when he becomes strong, every sad, weak human, every tight-ass angel, every sniveling demon… they'll all be consumed.” And she slammed the door and headed out to the living room to continue watching ‘Wheel of Fortune.’”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Seventy-two hours after her prayer, Ember had given up entirely. The child would be born any day now, she knew. It was now or never. “Cas, if you’re getting this, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. It would’ve been nice to have a child… with you…”

She looked down at her stomach. “And you, little one… I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know when you’ll be born, but it can’t be too far away. And nobody knows where I am to rescue me, even Castiel… even your father. But you can’t be born here, in this house, to this monster… You could have been good. You could be great… but not with her.”

Most of Ember’s force powers were dulled by the handcuffs she wore, but she was just a little bit more powerful than them. (Dagon had learned this during escape attempt Number One, which was why there was now special warding on the doors to allow only Dagon to access them.) She had just enough force power, she knew, to break her own neck.

She had always thought that if she killed herself, she would be sobbing uncontrollably as she worked herself up to it. Instead, she felt a steely resolution. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

One crack, and it was done.

Or was it? 

Ember felt a golden glow surround her.

Suddenly, she _knew._ She could _feel _him. _My son._ He had brought her back to life! Not because he needed her, because he didn’t, not anymore. He could survive on his own now, though he wanted to stay safe and warm a little longer. He did it because he _loved_ her. It felt like the mind bonding she used to do with Castiel, except that it was all pictures and feelings instead of words.

He was _good_. And for the first time in six days, Ember smiled.

***Castiel POV***

December 12th, Night

It had taken too long to get here. Perhaps he had been dreading it, though, and not driving as fast as he could’ve. But he was here now.

“Is it done?” said Kelvin.

“Yes,” Castiel answered, handing him the Colt.

“Bullets?” asked Kelvin.

“There were only two in the chamber, and I couldn't exactly ask for more,” Castiel snapped.

“It's enough,” said Kelvin. “One for Dagon, and one for Ember.”

“No,” said Castiel. “One for _the baby.”_

“Whatever,” Kelvin said flippantly. “Either way. They're close. The celestial pulse we felt, Joshua tracked it to a house nearby.”

Castiel’s phone was ringing. He knew, without looking at it, that it was Dean. _Again._ He felt horrible. 

“You're doing the right thing, you know,” Kelvin said, eyeing Castiel’s phone. “Committing to Joshua's plan, putting angelkind above the Winchesters. I mean, your reputation in Heaven is –…”

“This has nothing to do with my reputation. I am doing this for the Winchesters, and for Ember. All she wants is to get into Heaven… it’s all she’s ever wanted, and she’s worked _so _hard. They don’t understand… what they’ve taken on. What I’ve created. It’s not their responsibility, it’s… it’s mine. I-I stole the Colt to keep them out of this mission and to keep them safe from Dagon, and I – I will kill this child so that Sam and Dean don't have to, and Ember can get into Heaven.”

***Ember POV***

December 12th, Night

Ember was just beginning to nod off to sleep when the sound of fighting woke her up. Desperately, she pulled on her chain, but of course it was too strong, and her handcuffs kept her from unlatching it. Just when she considered breaking her other wrist, Castiel appeared.

“Cas!” she whispered excitedly. She saw it in his eyes, just for a second – a flash of love, of caring, of understanding. She held out her arms to him so that he could break the magical handcuffs. 

Instead, he ignored them entirely, and simply broke the chain to which they were attached. “I’m sorry, Ember,” he said. “I can’t – not yet. Please understand.”

***Castiel POV***

December 12th, Night

“So now what?” Ember asked him twenty minutes later. They were speeding down the road in Castiel’s truck. “Clearly you’ve got other plans for me other than, you know, freedom.” She held up her bonds accusatorily, and he drooped his head guiltily.

“First, I’m putting as much space between us and Dagon as possible,” Castiel answered.

“And then what?” she asked pointedly.

“I am sorry, Ember,” Castiel answered. “I’ve let this go on too long, because I wanted – I hoped you’d come to your senses.”

“Fuck you, Castiel,” Ember said.

“I’m sorry for everything,” Castiel said. “More sorry than you know. But the son of Lucifer… this is a human/archangel/demon hybrid. That power is beyond comprehension. Your child could bring the universe to its knees.”

“Or lift it to its feet,” Ember said vehemently. “This baby – nothing is born evil. And by the way… it’s _not _Lucifer’s. It’s _yours._”

Castiel looked at her properly, for the first time. He wanted to hold her. She was so thin, and yet still so beautiful. For a second, he even allowed himself to imagine that it _was_ his child, and that it wasn’t a threat to humanity. But he couldn’t afford this weakness.

“You don’t know that,” he said.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I do. The reason I was there, to take Lucifer down? And again, with Ramiel? And I know you’ve been talking to another angel, Kelvin. I have premonitions now, and they _all _surround _you.”_

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Castiel said, though he suddenly found it difficult to swallow. “And even if it’s true, it wouldn’t make any difference. I’m not as powerful as Lucifer, but the world cannot afford a demonic nephilim.”

He turned to her, then, looking her straight in the face. “And you know they won’t let you into Heaven? After everything you’ve done, how hard you worked…”

“I told you, I _already know_,” Ember said. “I’ve seen your conversations. And it doesn’t _matter._ This child is _good.”_

He looked away from her again. “I can’t take that chance, I’m sorry,” he told her. “None of us can.”

“So why didn’t you kill it already?” she asked, tears streaming down her cheeks.

He didn’t respond. Why _hadn’t _he killed the child yet? Why _wasn’t _he killing it now? He had had plenty of opportunities, in the last ten minutes alone. And still, he hadn’t killed the child. 

“_Joshua,” _he said on angel radio. “_I don’t think I can do it. Forgive me, I am weak. I-…”_

_ “It is no matter, Castiel,” _ he heard Joshua reply. _“Come to Heaven’s gate, and I shall do it. She shall feel no pain, and the child shall ascend straight to Heaven. You shall both be welcome there as well, for doing your duty.” _

_ “Thank you, Joshua.”_

They traveled onward for another hour, but finally the truck stalled. Irritated and stressed, Castiel stopped at a motel for the night. Ember needed to rest, anyway.

“I’ll get you something to put under the handcuffs,” he said finally, once they were settled in the motel. She was itching under them horribly, or at least she was trying to. There was something wrong with her wrist, too… he was pretty sure that it was broken.

“I’d like them _off,” _she said pointedly.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t. I know how much you want this child, and I _can’t._ But I want you comfortable. You only need one handcuff, anyway.”

Ember opened her mouth to protest, then appeared to think better of it, and offered Castiel her wrists.

“Ember, this is not only broken, it’s infected!” Castiel exclaimed when he removed the first cuff. She tried to hide it, but he could see her sigh of relief and tiny squirm when the cuff came off.

“I tried cutting it off,” Ember admitted.

“I’m so sorry,” Castiel said. He healed it with a touch. Then he put some cloth over her arm from his shirt, and handcuffed her again.

“Thanks,” she said begrudgingly. “I still hate you, but that hurt like a bitch.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“Something happened to me, Castiel,” she said thoughtfully as he removed the other cuff. He was happy to see that this side was not nearly as grotesque. “I lost hope. I tried – I killed myself. I broke my neck. I _died._ “

Castiel gave her a shocked look. “Ember-…”

“And then… He saved me,” Ember said. “He brought me back to life.”

“That was the pulse,” said Castiel. “We felt that in Heaven.”

“His power, his soul surged through me, and it was good.,” Ember insisted. “Pure. I know he is good.”

“Ember, what the child did, that's a testament to his power, but it's not proof of some goodness. He needs you alive.”

“Maybe,” said Ember. “Or maybe it was a miracle. I mean, it was _God_ that told me I was pregnant, and he seemed in favor. Maybe he has a plan.”

“No,” said Castiel. “Don’t you remember how little he cared, in the end? I didn’t want to admit it, either. But he’s off somewhere with Amara…” Castiel sighed. “I used to believe in a plan. I used to believe that I had some mission. But I have been through enough now to know that everyone is just winging it. Some of us quite badly. Lucifer, he's just breaking toys. He's sowing destruction and chaos, and there is no grand purpose at work. I wish I’d never let him out, because we didn’t need him, in the end. And most of all, I wish I had remembered he was the Father of Demons, before-…” he cut off, shaking his head in shame. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s _yours.”_

“But how _could_ it be?” he said, looking at her finally, with a horrible mixture of guilt and shame. “There were only – only brief _moments _when I was in con-…”

Suddenly, Ember let out a grunt.

“What?” asked Castiel, alarmed.

“He just – he just kicked,” said Ember. “Do you want to feel him?”

“Oh, no,” Castiel said, scared. 

“You might as well, before you murder him,” Ember said accusingly. She reached one hand out and grasped Castiel’s.

Castiel was scared, but he supposed Ember was right. If perhaps it _was_ his son, maybe this was the least he could do…

***Ember POV***

December 13th, Early Morning

As soon as Castiel touched her stomach, she felt the headache. It was the headache that came with premonitions.

She could see now, what would happen, and what she had to do.

“Cas, we’re late!” she said, jumping up.

“To where?” he asked.

“The sandbox. The entrance to Heaven. It’s where you’re taking me, isn’t it?”

Castiel gave her a shocked look. “Yes, but-…”

“Okay then,” Ember said. She walked over to the truck and opened the hood.

“Ember, come back!” Castiel cried after her. “You can’t be out in the open like-…”

“Put your hand here, and charge it with your angel power,” Ember commanded him, pointing to the car battery.

“O… o… kay,” he said, doing as she asked. With a loud roar, the truck came to life. “Where’d you learn how to do that?” asked Castiel. 

Ember rolled her eyes. “I’ve dated Dean on and off for like, seven years,” she said. “I was bound to learn _something _about cars.” And with a smile, she grabbed the keys out of his hand and jumped in to the driver’s seat.

“Okay, why are you doing this?” Castiel asked, barely managing to climb in next to her.

“Because he chose you, Castiel.,” she said. “And because I know what’s going to happen, now. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. I know now. I understand. When you put your hand on my stomach, I heard him. He spoke to me. He told me that even if it seems scary, if I just went to the gate, if I just followed your plan, that you would make sure he was born.”

“Ember, you –…”

“You were going to the gate anyway, weren’t you?” she asked him.

“Yes, but-…”

“I’m going in the right direction, am I not?”

“Yes, but-…”

“Then relax,” Ember said, smiling at him. She felt better than she had in a lifetime. “Let’s talk, Cas,” she said. “How have you been these past few months?”

***Castiel POV***

December 13th, Early Morning

Castiel felt good, if confused. Ember had spent the last six hours talking with him as though they were friends again. She had laughed, and giggled, and even given him at least five glances that could’ve been construed as loving (he had counted). He wasn’t sure if he was in Heaven, or if she was about to kill him. But Joshua had _said _to come to the gate, and she had driven him here…

“Are you sure, Ember?” he asked.

“As long as you're here, I know it's gonna be okay,” she said, smiling up at him.

Suddenly, a cloud began to swirl over the sandbox, and Joshua appeared. “Castiel. Ember. It's good to see you.”

“Hello, Joshua,” Castiel said.

“I know you must be scared,” Joshua said. “But don't be.”

But then Joshua’s mouth opened, and for a second, time was frozen. Joshua looked like a grotesque statue… and then, with no warning, he exploded.

Castiel screamed, “No!” and attempted to step in front of Ember, who at the same time had attempted to step in front of him. 

Dagon appeared in Joshua’s place. “Ugh,” she said, flinging ash out of her long black hair. Her eyes fixed on Ember. “Hey, girl. I made it here at the last possible second.” She grinned. “J. K,” she said, looking at Castiel. “Flipped your pal Kelvin ages ago, then smoked him. I've been here for hours.”

“You stay away from her,” said Castiel, succeeding this time in his effort to stand in front of Ember. He drew the Colt, but Dagon ducked, knocking it out of his hand. _Again. _He’d failed Ember _again…_ The Colt flew behind him.

And Dagon was on him again. She was beating him, once, twice, three times. “Look at him, your angelic defender,” Dagon yelled to Ember. “You really thought he was gonna save you? This sad, fluttering, aimless little moth?” Castiel felt himself being lifted above her head, and he could hear Ember screaming.

Suddenly, he heard an engine revving in the distance, and headlights. It was Sam and Dean!

Dagon dropped Castiel, and suddenly Sam was tossed backward. Castiel struggled to recover, and he saw Dean taking aim with the Colt. Ember was doing her best to use her powers, but with the handcuffs still attached, she was nearly powerless.

Just as Castiel stood up and readied himself to jump back into the fight, Dagon teleported behind Dean. Castiel heard the _crack_ of Dean’s arm as it broke, and he grunted with pain.

“Yeah, time to take this off the board,” Dagon said, and the next second, the Colt had been turned to melted ash. “Nooo!” Dean screamed.

“Okay, who wants ice cream?” Dagon said, advancing on Ember again.

Castiel stood in front of Ember, resolute, to the last. He would _not_ let Dagon take her.

“Kid, come on,” said Dagon. “It's just getting sad.”

“Run,” Castiel said to Ember.

But she didn’t. Instead, Ember took his hand. Her hand felt warm and comforting, but there was something else, something -…”

“Aw!” Dagon chided. “Adorbs!”

Castiel felt the energy coming up his arm, and suddenly, he _felt_ the child. It _was_ his child, he knew that now. He _understood._ It _was_ his child. And it was _good_…

Dagon raised her hand to deliver her final blow.

“Cas!” screamed Sam.

“No!” screamed Dean.

Castiel held up his hand, and caught her hand. He felt calm, and peaceful, with his other hand in Ember’s, and the strength of their child surging through him.

Dagon asked, “How –?”

“Call it a miracle,” he said fiercely, and he burned her to ash.

***Dean POV***

December 13th, Morning

“Cas?” exclaimed Sam, running toward where Castiel and Ember were standing. Castiel was breaking Ember’s handcuffs. “What was that?”

When she was out of the handcuffs, Ember threw her arms around Sam, and he hugged her back.

“It was, um, it was me,” said Castiel. “But it was also…” he looked at Ember. “You’re hurt,” he said, looking at Dean. He held out his hand, healing Dean’s arm. After the healing was complete, Ember hugged Dean as well.

“Thank you for coming to fight for us,” Castiel said sincerely to the two.

“Yes, thank you,” Ember said. “As usual, you saved our bacon. I’m really, _really_ sorry about the Colt, too.”

“Are you okay?” Dean asked the two of them.

“I am,” Castiel said. “I've been so lost. I'm not lost anymore. And I know now that this is my child… _and, _that he must be born with all of his power.”

Sam shook his head. “Don’t you think it’s a little more… complicated than that?”

“It is,” said Ember. “But… we’ll call you. We can’t afford to stand around, especially not here. I’m pretty powerful these days, but… not very mobile in a fight.”

“Where are you going?” asked Dean.

Ember and Castiel looked at each other, a very sappy, unashamedly in love look. Dean wondered if they even knew what their faces clearly expressed. It reminded him of the look he’d seen on Sam’s face when he’d let Eileen leave the bunker the week before. And, for the first time, he found that it didn’t bother him. The deathly thin girl that stood with Castiel, who was 9 months pregnant, was not _his _Ember… she was Castiel’s. And that was okay. 

“We’ll go on the run for awhile,” Castiel said, as loudly as possible. “It’s better if you don’t know. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Dean smiled. “You’ll call when you get somewhere safe?” he asked softly.

Castiel nodded. Using his angel powers, he broke the handcuffs on Ember’s wrist.

“Wait!” said Ember. She turned to Sam. “Sam, if you love that woman, get her back in the bunker, _immediately. _I hope you’ve already changed the locks, a million times over. I spent enough time watching the Men of Letters while I was on the run, and they have weapons you can’t even imagine. I don’t know what the Men of Letters will send after her, but it won’t be something she can fight on her own.”

They all looked at Sam, who nodded, a scared look on his face.

Ember shot one more smile at Dean, and he recognized it as a smile of thankfulness, and of peace. And then they both disappeared.

Dean realized then that he felt better than he had in the past four months. Finally – Lucifer was back in the cage, Dagon was dead, and Ember would be safe, and would survive the nephilim. “Sam, I’m going home,” he said. “And I’m gonna get some pie, and a beer, and some sleep, and then we’re gonna get your girlfriend back."

***Castiel POV***

December 13th, Morning

When Castiel opened his eyes, the two of them were in what he could only describe as an elaborate home. He could see a bathroom with a Jacuzzi off to one side. The bedroom was huge and lavish, and there was a living room with a desk off to one side. In the middle of the bedroom was a couple engaged in what looked like extremely engaging sexual intercourse.

Horrified, Castiel turned toward Ember, but before he could catch her eye she was already teleporting them somewhere else. 

This time, Castiel appeared in a smaller house. This house was more modest, with a smaller bed. It didn’t appear to be well-kept, but it wasn’t rundown either. Castiel could smell water nearby, so perhaps this house was on a lake or a pond. 

“Sorry,” Ember said, turning to him. “Sometimes my teleport spots are already occupied. I should’ve warned you, I teleport invisible.”

“Where are we?” he asked Ember.

“A lake house,” she said. “North Cove, Washington. It’s one of my favorites. All of these are summer homes, and these people have been kind enough to tint their windows so the security guy can’t tell that the light is on.”

“How long have you been here?” he asked her.

She shrugged, waddling over to the small bed. “On and off, but mostly off. I’ve moved around.” She sighed. “I can’t continue to move around like I’ve been doing, though. I’m too tired these days. I need a place to stay until the baby’s born. This is pretty out of the way… I suppose it’ll do. I’ve got to sit down for a few minutes, and then I’ll go get my stuff.”

“Where is it?” Castiel asked. “I’ll get it for you.” He felt helpless. He felt like an idiot, actually. All this time, he should’ve been helping her. She was still so thin, and she’d been on her own now for so long…

She snorted. “Not likely. It’s in a forest in Texas.”

_“What?”_

Ember laughed, her shoulders heaving as she did so. Castiel thought she looked beautiful, but there was something else… it was almost as if she were happy for the first time in months. He could sense, somehow, that it had been a very long time since she’d smiled like this, a long time since she’d really had anyone to talk to. “There are places I can stay, and places I can leave my stuff. The places I can stay have nice beds, most of the time, but there’s also an increased chance of other people being there… like you saw. So I can’t leave my stuff there. When I teleport to a new place, I do so invisible, but I can’t make my stuff disappear. So when I move around, I teleport, with my stuff, to some sort of forest or out of the way building. I leave my stuff there, and then teleport to a new place to make sure it’s… you know… safe, and abandoned. Then I go back for my stuff.”

Castiel’s brain worked quickly. “And you’ve been doing this… for _months_ now?”

Ember shrugged, though he thought he caught a slightly blameful look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ember,” he said. “I’m sorry for everything. For not listening to you about the child, and for forcing you into this… this…”

Ember walked over to him slowly and put her hand on his. “You’re here now… right?”

“Right,” he said, placing his other hand over hers. 

“And you’re not going anywhere? You’ll stay until the baby’s born, and help me survive it?”

“Yes,” he said, looking into her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, and pulled him into a hug. It was the first time in months – years, maybe - that he’d been this close to her, besides touching her hand and her stomach, and he felt suddenly light-headed. He was suddenly happier than he had felt in ages.

It felt so good to hold her again.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

After they returned from retrieving Ember’s belongings, they made an additional trip to the gas station to steal drinks and some food. Ember seemed happy, and Castiel made sure that she ate a full dinner. Afterward, Ember plugged in her computer and turned on some Netflix. She gave Castiel a long-winded explanation about how Charlie had helped give her untraceable access to the internet wherever she was. Castiel didn’t understand any of the explanation, but he liked to hear her talk.

Finally, Ember propped her computer up on a table and went to sit down on the sofa. Castiel sat down next to her, unsure of what else to do, but wanting to be close to her.

After about half an hour, Ember announced, “Cas, this sofa’s uncomfortable as all hell, and I can’t sit up anymore, and I’m cold. Wanna be my pillow?”

“Yes,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say.

Thirty seconds later, she was tucked under his arm, his trenchcoat wrapped around her back and arms, and her head lying on the sofa’s one tiny pillow in his lap. He still wasn’t sure how she got there, but he liked it. For just a few hours, he could pretend that she was his again.

***Sam POV***

December 13th, Noon

Sam had called Eileen on her laptop seven times, and still no answer. The eighth time, however, he was in luck. “Eileen, I’m glad you finally picked up! Look, it’s urgent! Ember said-…”

Eileen mimed “Stop!” with her hands.

There was a lot of sign language after that, and Sam’s ability to understand it was limited, but he felt he did a valiant job overall. She eventually managed to communicate to him that he needed to call her back when he had a link that he knew was untraceable and _not_ from the bunker.

Two hours later, he was at Charlie’s computer. He’d been meaning to head out to Charlie’s anyway, because it’d been awhile since they’d seen each other, so it was good to once again see a friend. Still, they had work to do. “Hey, Eileen, I’m at Charlie’s house,” he explained. “This computer is untraceable.”

“It’s great to finally meet you in person… ish,” said Charlie flirtatiously from Sam’s shoulder. 

Sam rolled her eyes at Charlie, smiling.

“Look, Sam, I hate to be all girly about this,” Eileen said, “But I think I might need to take you up on that offer to crash at your place for a little while. I think you were right about the Men of Letters… I think they’re watching me. I think they’re watching everything I do. I think I’m bugged or something. This is a new computer… I’m starting to get really paranoid.”

“It’s no problem,” Sam said. He didn’t dare talk about Ember in front of Charlie. Charlie was a good friend, and Sam knew that she missed Ember, but the less she knew, the better she would be. “How soon can you be back from Ireland? Where do you want me to meet you?”

“I actually left Ireland,” she said. “I was hoping to shake whoever was tailing me, but I don’t think I managed it. I’m in Chicago right now.”

“I can meet you in Iowa in about 5 hours,” said Sam.

***Castiel POV***

December 13th, Night

Castiel sat in a rocking chair, reading a book by candlelight. He felt as though none of this was real, as though he were in a happy scene from someone else’s life. He didn’t deserve to have a child, and he definitely didn’t deserve to be happy about it. Above all, he didn’t deserve to be sitting here, reading a book by candlelight, and watching Ember sleep.

Suddenly she started to moan. Within a few seconds she was thrashing about, and screaming. “Ember,” he whispered quietly. “Ember, wake up!”

But it was no good. She had fisted the blankets, and she was saying, “No! No! You can’t have him!”

He had to calm her. This couldn’t be good for the child, much less Ember herself. He had to do something.

Without thinking, he had crossed the room in two strides and put two hands onto her head. He was in her mind. 

He loved being in her mind. The attraction he felt to her due to her powers had only intensified over time, and being in her mind was pure bliss, even when she was having a nightmare. He had forgotten… forgotten how much he craved this… how much he _loved_ this…

But he was here for a purpose. He could see her nightmare. _Ember was holding a baby, and she was clasping Castiel’s hand. Lucifer was there, too, and he was surrounded by fire. And he looked like Castiel, but also very, very different. This version of Castiel didn’t wear a trench coat, but instead favored a simple shirt and pants. He looked much happier, but up close his face was formed into a sneer and his eyes were red – a distorted version of Castiel. And he was pulling Castiel and Ember closer to him, his arms outstretched. And she didn’t want Lucifer, never again. It was Castiel’s baby, and she loved Castiel-_

“What the holy _Fuck_, Castiel!” Ember was screaming.

Castiel found himself pinned to the wall, and Ember was across the room, her arm thrown up in the air and an angry look marring her beautiful face. A second later, she had released him and his vessel was free to move again, but she was still glaring daggers at him.

“I- you were having a nightmare,” he stammered.

“So you thought you’d go and read my _mind?!” _she exclaimed. “Who _does_ that? I’ve had plenty of nightmares before you came along!”

“I’m sorry, I just thought you’d sleep better-…”

“You have no _right_ to see what’s going on in my head!” she screamed at him.

“You – you still love me,” he said stupidly, because the words were playing on repeat in his own head, and he couldn’t think of what else to say.

She froze. Very slowly, she seemed to deflate, the anger slowly leaving her features and resignation seeping in. “Castiel, I never _stopped _loving you.”

In three strides, he was across the room and kissing her. Nothing else mattered – it was only her, and the rest of the world seemed to slip away. Her lips were parched, but still somehow soft, and endless. His tongue begged entrance and she allowed it, and Castiel was floating.

Castiel felt her stumble, and he caught her. He realized then that she was almost nine months pregnant, and it was really difficult for her to stay standing for that long, let alone let out that much exertion. He helped her back to the bed, loathe though he was to leave her. When he tried to stand up again, however, she pulled him back down to sit next to her, and began kissing him again.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” he said, looking into her smiling face.

“You broke up with me,” Ember said simply. “That… that didn’t mean I _ever _stopped having feelings for you. You must’ve seen that… when Lucifer was with you.”

Castiel shook his head. “When he read your mind, he never let me see what he found out,” Castiel admitted. 

“Is it so difficult to think that I might still love you?” Ember asked. “You’ve loved me for… what, like 8 years? I mean…” Suddenly Ember looked doubtful. “You told me you loved me with Ramiel… but I suppose you thought you were going to die…”

Castiel shook his head, and tilted his chin up to look into his eyes. “I love you… I’ve loved you with everything I’ve had, for… for years now. And I’ll _never_ stop loving you. But… but I’m an _angel._ I mean, humans-…”

Ember rolled her eyes. “God damn you and your stupid angel elitism!” He could tell she was annoyed, but not angry.

“Ember,” he said gently, “you know how I feel about-…”

“Fine,” she said, teasingly, “_Chuck_ damn then!”

He quirked a smile. “You know, that’s not really much bet-…”

“Here,” she said finally, and pulled his hand up to her forehead.

There was the blissful feeling again, like he was drowning in chocolate. And then memories assaulted him, one after the other, memories belonging to her. First he saw their kiss, from Ember’s perspective, back when Dean had the Mark of Cain. Then the scene morphed to Charlie’s apartment complex. 

_ “You know it’s only because he loves you, right?” Charlie asked._

_ “I don’t know that,” Ember said. “He won’t even look at me.”_

_ “He’s embarrassed,” Charlie said. “He kissed another man’s woman.”_

_ Ember shook her head sarcastically, holding up her now ringless finger. “You mean the man who threw me across the room and left to go do who knows what with who knows who?” she said, rolling her eyes._

_ Charlie sighed. “When was the last time he actually talked to you?” _

_ Ember sighed too. “When we kissed,” she admitted. _

_ Charlie sighed again. “He can’t avoid you forever,” she encouraged. _

The scene changed once again, and this time Ember had been crying. She was in a room that Castiel recognized immediately as Dean’s, and Dean was there with her.

_ “Did you ever stop loving Castiel?” Dean asked her softly._

_ “No,” was her quiet response._

_ “Will you ever love me again, the way you used to?”_

_ Her eyes flitted up to Dean just for a second, before she once again looked down at her lap. Tears were falling onto her lounge pants. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She bit her lip, hard, visibly, drawing blood, but the tears finally stopped. Slowly, she turned to him. “I thought – I thought… I don’t know what I thought.” _

_ She bit her lip again, and then continued. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you. And we tried so hard, but in the end… in the end… I don’t know, something happened, after Gadreel. And I kept thinking that we could start over, that things would get back to the way they were before, but they just… never did. And you’ve been so wonderful, and so supportive, and so great, that I just didn’t want to-…”_

_ “It’s been the same for me, you know,” he said._

_ “What?” she asked, looking at him with surprise._

_ “After you were with Cas… it hasn’t been the same. I thought that it was, but…” He shook his head. “Things never really felt the same. And then we were both demons, and afterward I thought I was so lucky we were still together… but it was because it was familiar, wasn’t it?”_

The scene changed again, and this time Castiel recognized the scene – it was when they had said goodbye, after Amara. 

_ “Look, if we survive this… I think I’m gonna take a break from the whole hunting thing,” Ember was saying. “You know, with Dean gone, and all, I think it’s just best if I sort of… lied low and took some time to heal.” Castiel didn’t know they had broken up weeks ago._

_ “It’s not your fault,” she said again, seeing the upset look on his face. “And I don’t blame you, or anything like that. It’s just… I think I need some… space. You know, a quiet life. For awhile.” But she didn’t want space, she wanted him to hug her and kiss her, but she had to protect the baby, and she knew Castiel would never accept it…_

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” she said, pulling his hand back from her face and holding it in front of them.

“Ember,” he said in awe, and their lips met once more.


	60. Something About Mary, Who We Are

***Sam POV***

December 15th, Early Morning

_Scratch scratch scratch. Scccccrrrratttttccchhh._

Sam had been having a fretful sleep anyway, so it wasn’t a surprise that he was easily awakened. Neither he nor Dean had heard from Mick since he had almost shot Eileen. They hadn’t heard from their mother for even longer. They were setting off on a new case tomorrow, to try to figure out why six hunters had died over the following three weeks, all apparently killed by “wild animals.” That, on top of everyone’s worry about the nephilim child, meant that Sam hadn’t been sleeping very well. 

_Scratch scratch scratch. Sccccrrrratttttchhhhh._

Sam envied Eileen sometimes, he thought, smiling at her still sleeping form in the bed next to him. He was happy that she would be going with them the following day. But still, the scratching continued.

With a grunt, Sam shifted, throwing on a shirt and a pair of sneakers.

_Scratch scratch scratch. Scccccrrrrratttttccchhh.. Bang! Bang!_

“What’s going on?” asked Eileen sleepily.

“Something’s scratching at the door.”

He padded out slowly to the kitchen and looked at the tiny camera that Charlie had installed at Ember’s insistence outside the bunker the previous year, after the Stynes had attempted to rob them. There was nothing there, but as he continued to watch, he saw long, jagged claw marks dig into the door. The door gave an almighty shake.

His blood froze. “Dean!” he screamed, running back to his room for his demon knife.

Dean met him in the hallway, as did Eileen. Dean was carrying an angel blade, as was Eileen. “Hellhound!” Sam said, and together, they all headed for the door.

“Stay back,” Sam told Eileen. “You’ve never fought one of these things before.” She opened her mouth to protest, but at a pleading look from Sam hung back a good ten feet from where the brothers were readying themselves to open the door.

“Ready?” said Dean. “On three. One… two… three.”

The brothers opened the door, and both of them took wild stabs as they could feel the hellhound muscle itself into the door. Sam could feel his knife hit home, between two bones, and the dog let out a loud yelping noise. Still, it attempted to muscle past the brothers, straight for Eileen. Dean’s angel blade was lodged in the hellhound even further than Sam’s knife. Dean was still hanging onto it, and Sam caught Dean’s look of surprise as the hellhound drug him a good 10 feet. Sam scrambled up after him just as the dog jumped on top of Eileen, tearing five identical gashes into her side. Eileen attempted to stab it in the head with her angel blade, but missed, and her blade clattered to the side. 

Finally, Sam was able to scramble after the hellhound. He jumped onto it from the side, and felt a sharp pain in both of his shoulders as the hound tried to find purchase. Still, the momentum from his jump drove the hound off of Eileen, and the demon blade was buried deep in its chest. With a howl and a yelp, Sam heard a loud “thump” on the floor, and blackish-red blood poured onto the garage floor from nowhere.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“It still doesn’t make any sense,” Dean said the following day. “Why would a demon sic a hellhound on Eileen, or either of these guys?” Eileen had needed twenty stitches, and was back at the bunker resting. (Sam had told her to rest, though he had a hunch she was researching.) Sam and Dean had given her hex bags to hide her from the hellhounds so that she would be safe. Then the two of them had gone to gather information about the two most recent of the six hunter deaths. As the brothers had suspected, both hunters had almost certainly been killed by hellhounds.

“I don’t know, Dean,” he grumbled. “Everything has got to be connected. Six hunters are gone, _almost_ seven. Of those, we know for a fact at least three of them were hellhound-related. Then there’s the fact that we can't grab a signal from Mom's phone. Mick has slipped off the grid. Ketch is lying to us. I’m afraid to let Eileen leave the bunker. I-I... I wanna punch something in the face.”

Dean sighed, turning on the exit back to Lebanon, Kansas. It was getting dark. “And Crowley says he doesn’t know anything about a hellhound being gone… but, of course, he’s full of shit.”

“And every single hunter that _did _die had years of experience. I was looking into it while you were setting up the summoning stuff for Crowley,” Sam added. He sighed. “Do you think _we _should be paranoid, like Eileen was? I mean, I’ve felt like someone was watching me for awhile. But I just thought it was because of Ember, you know…”

Suddenly Sam had a horrible thought. Dean was looking at him, too, and he could tell that they’d both had exactly the same thought. 

_What if they _were _being watched?_

“You don’t think-…” said Dean.

“Yeah, maybe,” Sam said. 

“Even though we changed the locks last year?” Dean asked.

“I mean, Mick has been around two or three times since then,” said Sam.

“Yeah, and Ketch came by during that vampire attack on headquarters,” said Dean.

When they arrived back at the bunker, however, Eileen had already found their answer. When they entered, she put her fingers to her lips and motioned for them to follow her. She knelt down under the table and pointed to a small electronic device.

Dean and Sam gave each other a horrified and angry look.

Dean pointed to the bug, then said, “Those hunters you were talking to… is one of them Terry Marsh?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Terry Marsh in Missouri. I talked to him. He, uh, he's also thinking it's not monsters doing the real killing.”

“Okay, well, I got a text from him,” said Dean. “He's been nosing around, says he's got a fair idea of what's going on.”

“And?”

“He doesn't feel safe talking about it on the phone. He wants to meet,” said Dean. “The old iron works off the interstate. Tomorrow night at 9:00. He says park off the road by the warehouse.”

“All right,” said Sam.

The board was set.

***Castiel POV***

December 16, Noon

If Castiel was allowed his own slice of Heaven, this would’ve been it. Ember was in his arms, and they had been kissing, on and off, for over an hour now. “You know,” said Ember into his ear, “If I wasn’t nine months pregnant with your half angel, half demon son, I’d totally be on top of you having sex right now.”

Castiel ignored what her statement did to his vessel’s anatomy and kissed her on the neck. “If you weren’t nine months pregnant with my half angel, half demon son, I’d totally let you.”

Suddenly Ember’s phone began to ring from across the room. To Castiel’s extreme disappointment, she began to extricate herself from his arms, then, at his resistance, used her force powers to move the phone closer. “Hey, Sam,” she said. “Yeah, I was trying to reach you this morning, I’ve been worried… yeah, I _know _I have no right to say that after what I put you both through.... and I’m really sor-… Yeah, he’s right here. We’re okay, but I can’t tell you where-… Wait, what do you mean a hellhound!”

Castiel had only been half listening, but at this he immediately tuned into the conversation. “No, no, I’m not going to stay here, if-… No, stop, _stop. _Cas and I will be right there.”

***Dean POV***

December 16, Evening

At 9:00 on the appointed night, Eileen, Dean, and Sam drove up to the appointed warehouse and got out of the Impala. They feigned as though they were going into the warehouse, but instead waited on two men in black to walk into the warehouse with guns before shutting the door behind them and locking them inside.

So far, so good. Dean could hear the men yelling and clattering in the building, but it had been set full of sleeping gas. He no longer had to worry about them.

Dean looked at the other two, and pointed to a black car that he could barely see beyond where the Impala was parked. Sam and Eileen both nodded at him, and the three of them made their way quietly over to the car and behind it.

Dean broke out the front window of the car, only to be greeted by Lady Toni Bevell, holding a gun. Good. He had been wanting to have words with her for awhile. She attempted to shoot him, but he was too quick, and grabbed the gun. She kneed him in the groin, and reached for her gun, which he had dropped. Sam was stepping on the gun, however, and pointing his own gun at her.

“You keep that up, we’re gonna have to start dating,” said Dean, attempting to recover from his knee to the groin.

Sam began the process of tying up Lady Toni. Meanwhile, Eileen stood right in front of her. “Did you try to kill me? Did you and the Men of Letters send hellhounds after me?”

“Who _are_ you?” said Toni snidely.

“Eileen Leahy,” she said, stone-faced and strong. Dean smiled – he could see why Sam liked her so much – she had stones.

“Probably,” Toni said, struggling against her ropes without much hope. “Rule of thumb – if you think we tried to kill someone, we probably did. Although usually, we succeed, so maybe not. Speaking of, you do realize that by attacking me, you invite the retribution of the entire British Men of Letters? Investigation, no trial. Just punishment and ruin. Possibly at the hands of Mary Winchester.”

All three hunters stopped. Toni struggled, but it did no good – Sam had already tied her up too well.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean said, his blood boiling.

“Your mother – she's our permanent guest,” said Toni.

“She's your prisoner? Why?” asked Sam. She was struggling, however, and refusing to be bent over and seated.

“Prisoner? Who said anything about prisoner?” Toni asked. “No, Mary's joined the team. Even has her own super secret decoder ring.”

“You're lying,” Sam said, scoffing.

“You're right,” Toni said. “There is no ring. Oh, boys and their mums. See, you see her as Mummy. We see her as one of our best killers.”

“You know, just 'cause she works with Ketch doesn't mean she likes him. Or you,” said Dean. He attempted to force her into the car, but she sidestepped him. It was oddly graceful except for the fact that her entire torso and arms were covered in ropes.

“Oh, that Oedipal myopia again,” she snapped. “And did you really think she was just ‘working’ with Ketch? All of those days and nights?”

“That's enough,” said Sam, and he picked Toni up, bending her at the waist, and set her into the Impala. 

“He said it was some of the best sex he'd ever had,” she said.

Dean had holstered his gun, but he drew it again quickly and fired, shooting just over the Impala and not two inches from the back of Toni’s head. “You wanna rethink that?”

“Actually,” said a voice from behind Dean and Sam, “It was the _best _sex I’ve ever had.”

Dean swung around again, anger flaring inside him, and shot at Ketch. Ketch had expected it and dodged, shooting back at Dean, who had also dodged. Meanwhile, Sam had shot and killed both Men of Letters guards that had arrived with Ketch. 

Dean shot again, but Ketch dodged again. He seemed to have forgotten about Eileen, however, who darted out of the bushes and plowed into him from behind. Just as he began to turn to shoot her, Sam leapt at him, catching him from the front and knocking him to the ground. Eileen yanked the gun out of his hand and handed it to Dean. 

“Our Mom – where is she?” asked Dean, now towering over Ketch.

But then, to Dean’s surprise, a voice he recognized said, “Don’t move.”

“Ah, speaking of your mother,” said Ketch.

Slowly, Dean turned around.

“Perfect timing, Mom,” said Sam from his place on the ground.

“Just stay where you are,” said Mary. And she shot, missing Dean by only inches.

But then Mary seemed to awaken from a daze. She shook her head to clear it. Her eyes looked at Dean, towering over Ketch, to Sam, still on top of Ketch and pinning him down, to Eileen, staring at Ketch with a look of revulsion. Then her eyes fell on Ketch himself. “_You,_ she said to him venomously. “You tried to control my _mind._ You made me _kill _other _hunters._ You kept me _prisoner._” Dean looked at Sam, his eyes widening. He had never seen his mother like this. He wanted to reach out to her and tell her to stop, that she didn’t need to take a human life, that that was his job… but he knew that she, too, was an experienced hunter, and had been so long before she had been his mother. Besides, judging by the way she was looking at Ketch, Dean didn’t think he could’ve stopped her if he’d wanted to. “And worst of all, you made me _shoot_ at my _boys.” _

“Mary, please-…” Ketch said, looking, for the first time, scared.

“Go to Hell,” said Mary. And she shot Arthur Ketch in the head.

Mary looked at her boys then. “Sam… Dean… I’m _so _sorry.”

Dean rushed to hug her. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Mom.”

Mary nodded, looking thoughtful, and shaking her head again. “I… I will be.” She hugged Sam as well. When she extricated herself from Sam, she said, “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah, Mom,” said Dean, opening the passenger side and looking inside of the Impala. “Uh, Lady Toni’s tied up in the back. I’d like to question her a little bit more, but Ketch had to go.”

Mary silently crawled into the passenger seat of the Impala, and Eileen crawled into the back seat. Only Sam and Dean were left. Dean looked around, but saw nothing. “Thanks, Cas,” he said softly into the air.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and a smaller, more feminine hand linked with his as well. Castiel’s voice said softly. “Dean, that was a very thorough job of mind control, and difficult to undo, especially on a moments’ notice.”

“Thank you,” Dean said again, and this time Sam echoed the statement as well..

“Mary won’t be the only hunter being mind controlled, but we have to leave now. I’m sorry we can’t do more.”

Dean nodded.

“Be careful,” said Ember’s voice, even softer. “Ketch was the worst, by far, but he’s trained all of the other operatives. Their vision won’t stop with his death. And Sam… good to know you took my advice about Eileen.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

***Ember POV***

December 18, Night

Ember’s phone was ringing. God, she was so _tired._ And there was something large draped across her, and good-smelling…

Oh. That was Castiel, who was now offering her ringing phone. She kissed the angel, smiling up at him. He made her _so _happy. She only wished he could’ve been here with her months ago, _years _ago even…

“Dean. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know,” Dean said. “We defeated the Men of Letters.”

“Good,” said Ember. “Well, I guess that’s one less organization to worry about, although there are still a ton of them back in England.” 

“Yeah,” said Dean. “But it’s more than that.”

“Okay, back up,” Ember said. “Tell me everything.” She held the phone out so that the angel could hear it as well.

“Well, Mick’s dead, for starters,” Ember heard Sam say. “I don’t know if you heard that the other day.”

“That’s too bad,” Ember said. “I liked him.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t half bad,” said Sam.

“So anyway, we headed to Jody’s and met up with a bunch of other hunters,” said Dean.

“Anybody I’d know?” asked Ember.

“The usual crew,” said Dean. “Jody, Alex, Claire, Walt, Roy -…”

“Wait, didn’t they kill you back in the Apocalypse?” Ember asked.

“Uh, yeah,” said Sam.

“Yep!” said Dean.

There was silence for a second before Sam finally said, “Times change. Jo was there too.”

“Jo?” asked Ember. “Jo Harvelle? I haven’t seen her in…”

“Ages,” Dean said. “I know.”

Ember knew Dean well enough to know two things from the tone of voice with which he spoke of Jo. First, she could tell that Dean liked her – _a lot – _and second, she could tell that whatever romance or relationship they had was in the very beginning stages. For this reason, Ember chose not to comment on it.

Sam, also sensing this, steered the conversation in another direction. “Anyway, we headed over to headquarters and did our thing. In the end, we blew up the whole building with that grenade launcher.”

“Awesome!” said Ember. “I know Dean’s been dying to use that for ages.” She could only imagine the look on his face now, a sort of self-satisfied smirk.

“But Ember, we found out something,” Sam continued. “Something you should know. Lucifer’s back at large.”

_“What?!”_ Ember and Castiel both said at once.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Dr. Hess told me… the tip top of their organization.”

“Before Jody shot her in the head,” Dean added with a chuckle.

“Look, she says Crowley let him out of the cage… and that Crowley’s dead. She says he’s looking for you, Ember. And you too, Cas.”


	61. All Along the Watchtower

***Ember POV***

**December 19, 9:03 AM**

“I’m just saying,” Ember said. “The check-out guy looked at us like we were super weird.”

“We don’t have _that_ many,” Castiel said, surveying the diapers in the back of the truck. While Ember had been asleep, he had lifted them from the local supermarket.

Ember rolled her eyes, though it turned into a yawn. “Cas… you bought enough diapers for the next several months. You went a little overboard.” 

“I disagree,” said the angel. “I have read 74 books on child rearing, and there is one thing that they all agree on– everybody poops.”

“Well, you're not wrong,” Ember admitted.

She knew the baby was coming soon. She had been so happy this past week and a half, with Castiel, that she was almost loathe to move on to the next phase of her life. Then there was the pain she was expecting, and, of course, the chance that she wouldn’t survive the birth. Castiel was with her, though, and the Winchesters would be coming soon. It was far more than she could’ve hoped for even a month ago.

Just as she thought this, pain erupted across her stomach. She cried out, grabbing her large stomach and bracing herself on the back of the truck. Castiel immediately ran to her side.

“I'm fine… I'm... I'm fine,” she said, allowing him to help her back to the bedroom.

***Dean POV***

December 19, 10:38 AM

“Hello, boys.”

Eileen, Sam, Dean, and Mary had stopped at a gas station in Wyoming and gone inside to get snacks. The demon was waiting for them when they came out, leaning idly across the Impala.

Dean ran over immediately and punched his old friend in the face, holding the demon knife to his throat. His anger had risen quickly, not least of all because the demon dared to lean against Baby. Despite Crowley’s assertions, however, Dean knew that something of their old friendship must still be in tact; had it been Sam, Mary, or Eileen who had confronted Crowley in this manner, they would have been thrown across the parking lot by now. “Did you do it?” Dean screamed. “Did you let Lucifer out?”

“I didn’t _let-…”_

“Don’t!” Dean said, digging the knife in. 

“Moose, a little help here!” said Crowley.

“Dean, wait,” said Sam.

“Seriously?” said Dean and Mary, but Dean dropped the knife.

“Look, just don't kill him,” said Sam. “He worked the Cage spell with Rowena. Maybe he can help us.”

“And what if he can't?” asked Mary.

“Well, then we kill him,” said Sam.

“Cage spell?” Crowley asked. “I thought you had mother for that.”

“Rowena's dead,” Dean said icily.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” said Sam. “_Lucifer_?”

“Funny.” Crowley said, obviously still considering his mother. “I always thought I'd be the one to kill her.”

“Crowley... why did you do it?” asked Sam. “Save Lucifer– What did you want?”

“I wanted to win,” the demon answered. “I perverted mother's spell, put Lucifer in a vessel of my own making because I wanted to win. Do you have any idea how many people have made a play for my throne over the years? Lucifer, Abaddon, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Too damn many. I thought if I could put the Devil on a leash... my own personal nuke, no one would ever dare challenge me again.”

“Yeah. That worked out great,” said Dean angrily.

“It all ended with me narrowly escaping death by hiding in a rat,” said Crowley.

“Wait,” said Mary. “In an...actual rat?”

“It wasn't too bad, really. It gave me time to think. You know, I've been focused for so long on keeping my job. I never realized I hate it. All those whining demons, the endless moan of damned souls, the paperwork! I mean, who wants that?”

“You,” said Sam, not understanding. Dean understood, though. He had always wondered about this, to be honest. It had been the subject of several conversations during his time as a demon. Crowley had never seemed particularly happy ruling Hell, and even less so after Sam had almost cured him during the Demon Trials.

“Unh-unh,” said Crowley. “Once, maybe.”

“So why are you here?” Sam asked.

“Well, whenever there's a world-ending crisis at hand, I know where to place my bets,” said Crowley. “It's on you, you big, beautiful, lumbering piles of flannel. So if you'll forgive my transgression, I'll make it worth your while.”

“Which means?” Dean asked suspiciously. His understanding of his old friend didn’t make him any less angry, but he was formulating a plan. He edged to his trunk, making the movement seem nonchalant.

“After we put Lucifer back in his cage– together– I'll seal the gates of Hell. You'll never see another demon again, apart from, of course, yours truly.”

Dean was gobsmacked, and froze over the open trunk. He looked at the demon, his eyes narrowing. He knew all of Crowley’s tells by now, but he was almost sure the demon was telling the truth… but _why?_

“You would do that?” asked Mary.

“Why not?” Crowley said. “They stab me in the back, I'll happily stab them in the front, the sides, and right up their little black-eyed asses. So... do we have a deal?”

As one, Mary, Sam, and Eileen turned to Dean. Dean thought quickly. He trusted Crowley’s words as truth, though he didn’t trust whatever Crowley _wasn’t _telling him. And everyone was watching… and he was angry. “Fine,” he said slowly. Quick as a flash, Dean yanked the demon handcuffs out of the trunk and snapped them on Crowley’s wrists.

“Aah!” Crowley screamed at Dean in surprise.

“Did you really think we're gonna trust you out there after what you pulled? No. You’re coming with us, but in these.”

***Ember POV***

December 19, 2:35 PM

Ember couldn’t find Castiel. The baby was coming. She knew that now, and she couldn’t find Cas! But then there he was, and she sighed with relief, falling into him. “Where were you?”

“I… um… checking the warding,” he said evasively.

“Cas,” Ember said warningly. She knew he was lying.

“It’s… it’s nothing. A minor complication… with the warding.”

Ember was about to question him further, but another contraction hit, causing her to double over.

“Ember?!” Castiel said in alarm.

“The baby,” Ember explained, wincing. “Cas, he’s coming!”

***Castiel POV***

December 19, 6:28 PM

_A minor complication with the warding._ Castiel couldn’t believe he’d gotten by with his lie. He’d been almost sure he wouldn’t get away with it. He wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t had that perfectly timed contraction, and the angel knew there would be hell to pay later for lying to her.

But it was too risky now for her to find out that their son’s power had accidentally opened the door to a parallel world in the backyard. She had to be in peak health for his healing to work when she was giving birth. She didn’t need stress. He wished she’d never even found out about Lucifer, but it was too late for that now… he would take care of everything.

The original plan, upon finding out about Lucifer, had been for the Winchesters to come join them and for the four of them (plus Mary and Eileen) to move around until after the baby was born. Normal demons wouldn’t be able to find them, between the wards and their hex bags, but Lucifer was another matter altogether. Ember was giving off power in waves, and Lucifer, for one, would be drawn to it. It was too much to hope that he wouldn’t come… they simply had to be ready when he did.

Castiel had been soothing Ember for the past hour, with light kisses on her face, and energizing her with his angel powers. He had been everything she could have asked for during this experience. “Jesus, when is this going to be over?” she said frustratedly, gritting her teeth.

“You’re a first time mother,” Castiel said. “I don’t think things change just because you’re birthing an angel… it could be hours.”

“I _know_ that,” Ember snapped at Castiel, her teeth gritted against the pain. “It’s a rhetorical question.”

Castiel sent her a pitying look. “I’m still sorry, Ember. I believe firmly that this child has to live. But I’m sorry every minute of my existence that you have to go through this.”

Ember smiled gently at Castiel. “Well, Cas,” she sighed. “I think at least that part is a normal father thing.”

Castiel gave a wry smile. He was still having trouble thinking of himself as a father, even though it had been almost two weeks now since he had committed to this journey. He supposed that humans had much longer than two weeks to get used to being a father, despite the fact that humans were used to things happening very fast.

“Cas?” Ember said, breaking him out of his reverie.

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” she said, lifting her hand onto his cheek. He leaned into her touch. 

“Even if this doesn’t work, and I die, I know you’ll be a good father. I – I love you.”

“I love you too,” Castiel said. “And it will work.”

It _had _to work. And outside, the rift glowed brighter.

With a sigh of relief, Castiel recognized the sound of the Impala pulling up outside. Castiel jumped up to meet them on the stairs.** “**Dean?”

“OK,” Dean said, “Are you guys ready to hit the road?”

But Castiel shook his head. “She can't be moved. She's having a–…” 

Ember was groaning again in pain. Castiel moved quickly to check on her, but Mary stopped him, putting a hand on his chest. “I'll check on her,” the older woman said, and Eileen followed her.

“There’s been a problem,” Castiel whispered to the brothers after the women were gone. “Come with me.” And he led them both to the backyard, and through the rift to the other world.

***Ember POV***

December 19, 8:56 PM

Castiel wasn’t gone long, just long enough for Ember to miss him. When he finally returned, Ember was desperate for answers.

“Cas, what’s going on out there? And _don’t _tell me it’s nothing, Castiel, or that it’s some damn problem with the warding, because I’m not _stupid.”_

Dean, Sam, and Castiel looked at each other. She knew the nonverbal communication of all three of them well enough by now to understand exactly what was going on. The shake of Dean’s head meant “_Don’t tell her.” _The raise of Sam’s eyebrow meant, “_Really, Dean?” _The exasperated look on Mary Winchester’s face meant, _“Somebody had better start talking.”_

Finally, Castiel said, “The child’s power has caused a sort of… a rift. Between this universe and the next. It’s a sort of wormhole.” When he had finished explaining, Ember was shocked and alarmed. She could see this sentiment echoed on Mary’s and Eileen’s faces. Everything seemed hopeless, and she was so _tired_, and _everything hurt…_

“We have a plan though,” said Dean, who was glaring at Castiel. “If Lucifer comes, I mean. The rift could be a good thing.”

For the next hour, the group talked about logistics for their plan. After awhile, however, it seemed all possibilities had been exhausted, and Lucifer still hadn’t shown up yet. Ember had still not dialated enough yet to begin the birth, either, though it was getting closer. 

“You’re an angel, can’t you, like, speed this up?” asked Mary after Ember underwent a particularly painful contraction.

Castiel shook his head. “I have no control over anything happening until the child begins to emerge. At that point, it will be my job to heal Ember as quickly as possible, though even this isn’t foolproof.”

Everyone went silent for a few seconds after this, until finally Ember said, “Wow, Cas, way to bring down the party.” 

After that, eventually the conversation shifted to other things – to Bobby, and to recent hunting trips, and to a long-winded story about how Dean had killed Hitler that everyone but Ember had heard about a million times. Eventually Ember found out from Dean that Crowley was prowling around the house, and Crowley joined the group for a few minutes as well. Ember had had her moments with the demon, but ultimately he had admittedly been the best (and only) demonic ally she’d ever had, on several different occasions. 

Ember also wanted to call the children and tell them she loved them, in case this was the end. She still hadn’t told them that the birth might cause her death, though she was fairly certain that they had guessed it. She was certain that Krissy, at least, was looking for her and Castiel, but she didn’t want her to be caught up in this mess. Over the past week, Castiel and Ember had called the children at least once each day, but had hung up with them whenever the children began to press for their location. 

All in all, the two hours after Sam and Dean arrived would’ve been wonderful had Ember not been in a severe amount of pain and on the verge of giving birth. Still, Ember felt that being surrounded by friends, especially after so many months of isolating herself, was the best thing in the world for distracting herself from the pain and the stress. 

Finally, just when a particularly violent contraction was ending, Castiel froze. “He’s coming,” he told the others. “We need to get ready.”

At first Ember thought that Castiel meant the baby, but then the angel walked over to her and kissed her swiftly on the lips. “I’ll be back, I promise,” he told her. “I love you.”

***Dean POV***

December 19, 9:18 PM

“Well, this is a fun surprise,” said Lucifer. He was walking casually up the front sidewalk. Dean’s mouth was set in a thin line, and his brother, mother, Eileen, and Castiel stood next to him. They wouldn’t let him get to Ember and the child.

“I gotta hand it to you guys,” Lucifer said. “You never give up, even when you should. Even when it would be so stupid not to.”

“Look, whatever you're planning on doing, Chuck… God will stop you, just like he did last time,” said Sam.

“You're right,” Lucifer mocked. “What should I do? Oh, God! Don't strike me dead! Come on, Sam. You sound like a virgin in Jesus camp. ‘We can't. God is watching.’ No. Chuck ‘walked.’ He's gone.”

“So you're just gonna smash his toys?”

“Exactly,” said Lucifer.' “Cause every time I look at this sad trash fire of a world, you know what I keep thinking? I could do so much better.”

“So Apocalypse, take two. That's your plan?”

“When in doubt, go with the classics,” Lucifer responded. “That's what I always say. Well, boys, enough with the foreplay. Let's do this.”

“You know it’s not even _your_ child, right?” said Lucifer.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said looking bored. “I’ve figured that out by now, thanks. But I can always take Mini-Cas, and the half-demon, and…” he smiled an evil smile. “Make some of my own.”

Castiel charged at Lucifer with his angel blade then, but Lucifer batted him aside easily.

Dean and Sam looked at Castiel, then at each other, and then took off running. As they hoped, Lucifer chased them.

“Mature,” snapped Lucifer. “_Real_ mature. I really want to enjoy this. I really wanna savor ripping you apart, getting all up in there, and getting all gooey. But, you know, little slugger's almost here and, uh... Well, I'm on the clock.”

Lucifer had reached the back yard of the small lakehouse by then, and stopped. When Dean knew he had the archangel’s attention, he reached out and touched the rift, allowing himself to disappear into the other world.

A second later Lucifer appeared in front of Sam in the alternate world. “Mm,” he said, looking around. “Nice.”

“You wanted the Apocalypse? You got it,” Sam yelled at him.

“Sammy. Hey,” said Lucifer. “Where's your big bro?”

“Right here,” said Dean, wielding Bobby’s gigantic angel-killing gun.

“Ooh,” said Lucifer. “Sweet toy.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “I got it off an old– new pal of mine. See, we have this bet, to see if it works against an archangel. So... say hello to my little friend.” If he was going to die – before he even got a chance to see what might’ve happened with Jo – if he was going to die, he would make it a memorable end. And he opened fire. “Yeah, baby!”

The bullets ripped through Lucifer, one after the other, and Dean felt the kick-back of the gun nearly bowl him over… but then the gun jammed, and Lucifer was still advancing. “You lose,” said the archangel. And then Lucifer began to beat him. He knew Lucifer wasn’t even beating him very hard… he was just warming up. Lucifer hadn’t been lying earlier… he wanted to enjoy this. But Dean needed to survive a little bit longer, just long enough for Sam and Crowley to finish their plan…

And then Dean was on the ground helpless to respond. His body refused to move, and he could feel his ribs breaking. “I could do this all day,” said Lucifer. “You make such funny noises.”

Finally, mercifully, Lucifer was flung away from Dean by an invisible force. “Surprise,” said Crowley.

“Crowley!” said Lucifer. Dean felt arms on him, pulling him up and back toward the rift… Sam.

“You sneaky little… So I guess I get to kill you twice, huh, Crowley?”

“I doubt it,” said the demon. There was a strange look in his eyes that Dean had never seen before, and even though Dean wanted to run back through the rift and see to Ember, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away.

“Oh, no, no,” said Lucifer. “You had your chance. You could've put me back in the Cage, but... you had to make it personal, didn't you?”

“You're right,” said Crowley. “It is personal. You humiliated me. I... I hate you. Deeply. Truly. I'm gonna enjoy wiping that smug, self-satisfied look off your face. Personally.”

What was Crowley talking about? This wasn’t in the plan.

“You mean...this one?” said Lucifer, smiling. 

Crowley pulled out his angel blade.

“Come on, Crowley,” the archangel taunted. “You know whatever you try, you're gonna lose.”

“You're right,” said the demon. And as he turned toward him, Dean knew what he was going to do. Crowley smiled at the stunned look of shock on Dean’s face. “Bye, boys,” he said. Then, as if in slow motion, he stabbed himself with the angel blade and fell to the ground, dead.

***Ember POV***

December 19, 10:30 PM

The baby was coming. He was coming too quickly. Castiel was here with her, though. It would be okay. Downstairs, in another universe, Sam, Dean, and Crowley were fighting for their lives. But she couldn’t think about that. The baby was coming.

Suddenly Ember heard shouting, and gunfire. First Sam’s voice, then Dean’s. There was a fight… someone was fighting downstairs. The plan hadn’t worked! Had the spell to close the rift not worked, or was it a matter of the unknown factor? Crowley hadn’t known how long the rift would stay open once the spell was activated. Perhaps the rift had closed, but Lucifer had made it back through to this side? As one, the women headed downstairs, and there was more shouting.

Castiel was watching out the window. “What’s – aaaaaagugggggugghh – going on?” Ember screamed at him.

“Lucifer’s come back through the rift with Sam and Dean. I can’t see Crowley. They’re fighting downstairs, but…” He looked at Ember, and she could see it in his eyes. Someone was hurt. He wanted to join the fight, but he didn’t want to leave her. 

“Cas, I’m not even dialated enough yet,” she said.

“But you’re close… and it won’t take long,” he said.

“Cas, it – aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhh damn it! Just go!”

And then what little color was still in Castiel’s face left it, and the angel stuttered, “He’s – he’s coming!” With a panicked look at Ember, Castiel ran away down the stairs.

Ember felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to throw up. She was dizzy, and she was so, _so _so tired, and she hurt… but she _had _to see what was going on. Every step to the window felt like a momumental accomplishment. She could hear screaming – Mary’s voice, and Dean’s, and Sam’s, and even Lucifer’s taunting voice over the sound of gunfire. There were only 3 steps to the window, and there was a chair in front of it. Ember fell into the chair, because by then her legs would no longer support her. She was lucky that her aim was true, and she didn’t end up sprawling butt-first on the floor with the chair behind her. She ended up half-squatting on the chair, craning her neck backward to see what was happening below. 

She had a horrible view, but she could see Dean, tossed backward into a tree, unconscious, blood dripping from a wound on his head. Sam was attempting to rouse him, but with no success. Mary was limping slightly, a large gash torn into her left leg. Eileen was nowhere to be found. And Castiel…

Castiel was leaping at Lucifer, and Ember knew, somehow, right before it happened. As if in slow motion, Lucifer feinted left, then spun around. Castiel had leapt too far, and recovered too slowly. Ember watched with horror as Lucifer’s angel blade slid cleanly through him from back to front. She caught his eyes, and they were full of love… and sadness. And then Castiel exploded, white light pouring from his body as he crumpled to the ground, dead.

Ember screamed, “Noooo!” except the words didn’t actually come out. And as she did, she felt a wrenching in her gut and it was as though the floor was falling out from under her. And she could feel herself falling, and she knew. She knew this was the end. And she would join Castiel…


	62. Patience

***Jack POV***

February 18, Daytime

It had been almost two months now since Jack was born into the world. It was scary at first, and confusing. Everyone else who was as big as him knew things about the world that he hadn’t had the time or opportunity to learn, because he had been born as a teenager. 

The world was a scary place. Jack wasn’t usually allowed out of the bunker, and he was okay with that – the bunker was scary enough. The adventures that Sam and Dean talked about were scary, and Dean himself was confusing, and every time Jack left the bunker things seemed to get complicated in ways that he never could have expected because he just didn’t _know _things like everyone else seemed to.

Sam once said that his father had been like that too, and that made him feel better. Sam was kind, overall. Sam had been helpful. He had given Jack a video that his mother and father had made before they died. They seemed happy. 

Dean was confusing, and sometimes terrifying. Jack knew that if it had been entirely up to Dean, he never would’ve been allowed to remain alive. He wanted to impress Dean more than almost anything, because Dean was strong and had a good heart, and he had been friends with his father, like Sam. Things had been better since Jack had saved the brothers from Asmodeus, the Prince of Hell, but Jack knew that he never would’ve had to save them if he hadn’t been stupid enough to be fooled into following Asmodeus in the first place. This was what Dean called _naïve._

If Jack turned evil, Dean would be the one to kill him – he knew that. Perhaps that was why he looked up to Dean, because he trusted Dean to take care of it if Jack couldn’t be the man – the _angel_ – that Sam and Castiel had wanted him to be.

The other inhabitants of the bunker, though around less, were no less confusing when they were actually present. Eileen, Sam’s girlfriend, stayed for brief periods of time before leaving again. Jack liked her very much, and she treated him well. She reminded him of a mother at times, though perhaps that was wishful thinking. She made Sam happy, and Jack thought that he seemed softer when he was around her, more caring. He wondered if his mother and Castiel had been like that.

Of all of the bunker’s residents, however, Krissy scared him the most. She was kind, like Eileen, and friendly. She only came every once in awhile on the weekends, but Jack remembered each of her visits in great detail. He found himself staring at her. He couldn’t help it, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t want to ask Sam, because he could sense somehow that this was a bad thing. Either way, the more he stared, the more he felt sick to his stomach. He had wondered on a couple of occasions if she was secretly a witch, but reassured himself that Sam and Dean would know if she was. Therefore, he tried to be friendly to her, just like he did with everyone else.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

One week in February, Dean was called away on a case involving a family friend, Missouri Mosely. He took Krissy with him, leaving Sam and Eileen behind. Jack was jealous that Krissy got to go with Dean, but he guiltily admitted to himself that he felt glad that the person who was most likely to give him suspicious looks and narrowed eyes would be leaving the bunker for a few days.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be an absolute disaster. Sam had tried to help him by training him to control his powers, and Jack had become frustrated and snapped at the older man. “I don’t want to! I can’t do this! And you keep staring at me, waiting!” Sam had called a break, and the three of them had shared a meal together, hurt flashing in the older man’s eyes.

Later that evening, Eileen had caught Jack brooding in his room. “Penny for your thoughts?” she’d asked.

Jack turned quizzically to face her.

“It means I’m asking what you’re thinking about,” she clarified.

Jack thought for a moment. “I was rude to Sam earlier,” he admitted. “I am feeling bad about it.”

Eileen smiled. “You know, an apology goes a long way.”

Jack thought for a moment, then brightened. “That’s a good idea!”

So Jack apologized to Sam, which made him feel a lot better. Afterward, he tried again to move the pencil, but it just wasn’t working. _Why _couldn’t he move the pencil? He had opened a door to Hell. He had thrown Sam and Dean across the room. He had blasted Asmodeus...

A horrible thought occurred to him. What if he only had evil powers, powers to hurt people? His mother had been half demon, so perhaps this made sense. 

And then Sam found him, sulking in a corner with his dark thoughts. “I know this isn’t exactly fun,” Sam had begun.

“No, it’s the opposite of fun,” Jack agreed.

“Okay,” Sam said, shaking his head. “But why is it so hard? I’ve seen you throw people across the room. I’ve been thrown across the room by you. I’ve seen you open a gate to Hell… and now nothing? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Jack couldn’t stand to look in Sam’s eyes. “It’d make sense… if I’m evil.”

“What?” said Sam.

“Just… go, please,” said Jack, not wanting to make the same mistake he had made earlier.

“No, Jack,” said Sam. “Why do you think you’re evil? Because when I look at you, that’s not what I see.”

“Yeah, well, _Dean_ sees it,” said Jack. “That’s why he says… he said he’d kill me.”

“He what?” Sam asked.

“And maybe he should!” Jack exclaimed. “We don’t know anything about me. Nobody knows. And I _am _part demon, and-…” He sighed, starting over. “Mom said I could be good. That I had the _choice _to be good, that it was up to me. But she’s dead _because _of me.” 

He looked up at Sam. “I’ve only been on Earth for a couple of months, and I’ve already hurt people. I’ve already done bad things. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t… I can’t do the one good stupid thing you want me to do. So… I must be evil. Like a demon.”

Sam sighed, and finally lowered himself down to the floor to sit next to Jack. “Jack… listen. Your mother was my best friend,” he said. “I knew her better than almost anyone else, except for Dean and maybe Cas. And you sound so much like her it’s uncanny.”

“I do?” he asked, a flutter of hope inside him.

Sam nodded. “She was always trying to control her demon side, and she was nearly always successful at it. I’m not surprised she gave you that advice on her video. She was right, you _do _have the choice.”

“But what about-…” Jack started.

Sam cut him off. “Asmodeus tricking you… Dean… and _certainly _Ember and Castiel’s death… None of that is your fault. I think that after everything that’s happened, you’re – you’re probably scared to use your power. And me pressuring you surely isn’t helping.”

Jack looked up at the older man, a flutter of hope in his stomach. “Really?”

“Really,” Sam nodded. “What do you say we call it? Until I figure out a better way. How does that sound?”

“It sounds… good,” Jack agreed. “Sam… why are you being so nice to me?”

The older man appeared to consider this. “Because I know what it feels like to feel like you don’t belong,” he said. “To feel like there’s this darkness inside of you. To be scared of who you are, and what you can do. Your mother did, too. But Dean, and Cas, and I… we all helped each other through that. So now I want to help you. Because you’re not evil, Jack.”

The rest of the period of Dean’s absence was far more enjoyable. Sam introduced Jack to a number of movies, stating that “Ember wouldn’t have wanted you to be as clueless about pop culture as your father was.” Jack wasn’t sure what this meant, but he enjoyed the time with Sam and Eileen. He forgot, for just a few days, about being a half-angel-half-demon, about having two dead parents, and about the scathing looks from Dean. For just three days, he was a normal teenager.

Then Dean returned. Jack had been headed for the kitchen for a late night snack when he heard Dean’s voice. “How’s the kid? He go dark side yet?”

Jack stopped just outside the room, listening.

“Nope,” Sam said. “He’s pretty messed up though.”

Messed up? Sam thought he was _messed up?_ What did that mean?

“You’re telling me,” Dean said.

“No, Dean, he’s messed up _because _of you,” Sam answered. This somehow made Jack feel better about how Sam thought of him, but also even more confused.

“Dean… you said you’d _kill _him,” Sam continued.

Oh. That. 

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” came Dean’s voice.

“Then how exactly was it?”

“I told him the truth,” said Dean. “See, you think you can use this _freak_, but I know how this ends, and it ends bad.” Jack felt his heart drop at the word “freak.” He had thought he and Dean had been getting along better, after Asmodeus… Apparently not. Dean thought he was a _freak._

“I didn’t,” said Sam’s voice.

“What?”

“I didn’t end bad,” Sam said. “When I was the _freak_. When I was drinking demon blood.”

_What?_ Jack thought with alarm. Sam had drank demon blood? What did that mean? When had this happened?

“C’mon, man, that’s totally different,” said Dean.

“Was it?” Sam asked. “Because you could’ve put a bullet in me. Dad _told you _to put a bullet in me, but you didn’t. You _saved _me. So _help me _save him.” Jack felt an upswell of affection for Sam.

“You deserved to be saved. He doesn’t!” Dean snapped.

“Yes he does, Dean! Of course he does! What would Ember say if she heard you say that about her son!”

“Well, we’ll never know, will we!” Dean snapped. “Because she’s dead! Look, I know you think that you can use him as some sort of an interdimensional can opener. And that’s fine. But don’t act like you care about him, because you only care about what he can do for you! So if you want to pretend, that’s fine. But me? I can hardly look at the kid. ‘Cause when I do, all I see is everybody we’ve lost.”

“None of that is on Jack, Dean! Jesus, they all made choices and he wasn’t even _born _yet!”

“Bullshit! He manipulated them, Cas and Ember both! What the hell did he do to Cas and Ember, for them to suddenly decide they wanted to throw their lives away?” Dean was screaming now, and Jack could hear his footsteps coming near. Without thinking, he teleported, finding himself once again in his bedroom.

He was so confused. Sam, on demon blood? Sam, using him to break open a door to another dimension? But Sam had defended him. ”_Help me save him_,” he’d said. “_Of course he deserves to be saved_,” he’d said. “_What would Ember say if she heard you say that about her son?_” … “_None of that is on Jack… he wasn’t even born yet!”_

But Dean hated him. “_I can hardly look at the kid. ‘Cause when I do, all I see is everybody we’ve lost!”_

He wished Ember hadn’t had to die. And Castiel… Castiel was supposed to have been here, to guide him. “_Mother,” _he whispered into the night, his voice a deep pit of emotion. ‘_Father.”_

***Ember POV***

UNKNOWN – Everything is black

_“Mother,” _someone called. Ember knew, somehow, that it was Jack. Jack was calling her. She had to wake up… but she was so, so tired…

***Jack POV***

February 22, Daytime

Jack had been shut in his room for two days. Not that he didn’t spend quite a bit of time shut in his room anyway, but he usually at least tried to be social. 

Now, however, he didn’t know what to do. Dean hated him, and wanted him dead. Sam was kind and seemed to care about Jack, but Dean had also said that Sam was using him to open a door to another dimension. He wanted desperately to leave the bunker, but that was even more terrifying. At least here, he knew where he stood. The thought of what had almost happened with Asmodeus kept Jack in the bunker when all else failed.

In his wildest moments, it occurred to Jack that perhaps he had been wrong, that Asmodeus had been attempting to help him, to save him from Sam and Dean, and that perhaps he was on the wrong side. This didn’t make any sense, though – Ember and Castiel had trusted Sam and Dean, he knew that for a fact. So he should trust them, too, despite his doubts.

Jack was in the middle of watching ”Clone Wars” on his computer when Sam knocked on his door.

“Clone Wars?” Sam commented.

“The computer said I’d like it. I do like Ahsoka. Kinda hate Anakin.”

“Uh… that’s probably for the best,” said Sam. “Never mind. Um, hey. Do you remember when I told you what Dean and I do? Our, uh, our day job?”

Jack remembered. He was pretty sure it was the truth, too. He’d heard enough conversations between the two of them to have gathered that much. “You kill monsters because you’re the good guys.”

“Right, right. And we’ve got a case, so… thought you might want to come along.”

Three days ago he would’ve jumped at the opportunity. Today, not so much. “No,” he said simply.

“Jack, I really think this would be good for you. You know, maybe a change of scenery might—…”

“Get my powers working again?” Jack said, narrowing his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe,” said Sam.

Jack paused the video. “So I can be your ‘interdimensional can opener’?” he said viciously. “You’re using me.”

Sam sighed, sitting down on Jack’s bed. “Jack… when you were born, it ripped a hole in reality. Like a—like a door from this world to another, to a… a really bad, bad place. So—so Dean and Cas, and I, we—we closed that door. But… our Mom, Mary, she’s trapped on the other side.”

_Oh._ He wondered what had happened to her, and why Dean had blamed him for her death. 

“If we can get your powers back, maybe we can open that door up,” Sam was saying. “Maybe…”

“You wanna save her,” Jack said, understanding. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Yeah, I do. But… if this doesn’t work, if that can’t happen, that’s okay, because I do care about you. But I should’ve told you. I’m sorry. It’s a lot and, uh…”

Jack felt minimally better. Finally, Dean and Sam’s conversation made sense. Sam _did _care about him. His mother and Castiel had been right. But there was still the matter of Dean

“Dean can’t even look at me,” Jack said. “He wants to kill me.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Sam said. “Listen, if there’s one thing that Dean respects, it’s effort. So come along. Help us out. Let’s go be the good guys.”

Jack smiled, feeling better than he had in 3 days. In all honesty, he really _did _want to leave the bunker, as long as he was accompanied by Sam. He had been in here too long.

***Ember POV***

TIME UNKNOWN

“Ember? Ember, wake up?”

“Mmmm…” It was Castiel’s voice. Castiel, who had died…

“Cas!” she cried, her eyes flying open.

The first thing she saw was Castiel, and her face split into a wide grin. Before she had a chance to throw her arms around him, she took in her surroundings.

It was dark. Dark black, everywhere. She wasn’t even sure what she was standing on, though it was solid enough. She could see Castiel clearly, but everything else was black.

Memories hit her with the force of a truck. Castiel, dying. The baby coming… a golden light, and then… nothing. _I’m dead. Jack...._

She looked down, and she realized suddenly that she was thin again, as she had been before the pregnancy. She grabbed Castiel’s hand as though it was a lifeline. His hand felt warm, and she caught his eye. He looked as surprised as she felt. “Cas… where are we?”

“The Empty… I think.”

It was too much to take in. The vastness of the black swallowed them both whole, like an endless and uncomfortable blanket. Ember could see the fear reflected in the angel’s eyes as he pulled her close.

***Jack POV***

March 9

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

Jack learned a lot over the next few weeks. He learned about ghosts, shapeshifters, ghouls, revenants, werewolves, and vampires. He learned how to pretend to be an FBI agent, or at least one in training. He learned how to use an EMF meter. He learned that if there is a pissed off ghost in the vicinity and he can’t use his powers and he doesn’t have a weapon, he should get the hell out of the way. He learned how to use a gun (though he wasn’t allowed to take one on hunts because he apparently “couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn”). He learned how to fight, a little, which Sam said he was better at than using the gun. He learned that lying isn’t a sin in certain situations if it means that people’s lives end up getting saved from the monsters. He learned that Sam believed in therapy far more than Dean did, and that Dean didn’t like talking about his problems. He learned that when Dean doesn’t come back to the motel room at night, he shouldn’t ask Sam where he is because Sam gets uncomfortable and changes the subject.

Finally, one day, his powers came back. It couldn’t have been at a better time. He and Dean had been handcuffed to a fireplace by a shapeshifter, who was poised to shoot Sam the moment he walked in to save them. It was over, Jack thought. The one person who truly cared about him, the one person who wasn’t afraid of him… And then he felt his powers awake. “Noooo!” he screamed, and he lashed out. The shapeshifter was thrown against the wall, and the bullet meant for Sam deviated and hit the wall next to him.

He had saved him. He _was_ good.

That evening, Jack was getting a drink of water when Dean entered the kitchen to grab some beer. “Hey,” Jack said conversationally.

“Hey,” Dean said. 

Suddenly, Dean walked over to him, looking somewhat uncomfortable. Jack froze. It was the first time Dean had willingly approached him.

“You did good today, Jack,” Dean said, before leaving the room.

Jack’s heart leapt; things were going to be okay.

He smiled as Dean left the room. 


	63. The Big Empty

***Ember POV***

**STILL UNKNOWN**

It might have been days, and it might have been hours. Ember was holding hands with Castiel as they plodded through the dark nothingness. She felt as though his hand kept her real, and strong. 

They could feel that someone was following them. They hadn’t discussed it, but both of them kept looking backward and around, as though someone would suddenly materialize.

Finally, Castiel said, “I know you’re there. I can feel you.”

Slowly, a being materialized behind them. He had taken on Castiel’s form, but he was grinning too widely, and smiling too creepily. He reminded Ember of Lucifer, and she squeezed Castiel’s hand. “Hello,” he said.

“What are you?” said Castiel.

“Oh, I’m just your friendly neighborhood cosmic entity,” the other man said in a nasally voice.

“Why do you look like me?” asked Castiel.

“Oh, yes,” said the entity. “Yes, yes. Well, I show up in my real form, and you freak out, rip out your own eyes, et cetera. That would be embarrassing, wouldn’t it? For both of us.”

Ember swallowed hard. She tried out her force powers, just slightly, attempting to clandestinely move the entity’s trench coat. He looked toward her immediately, and his eyes bored into hers. “That won’t work on me, demon girl,” he said mockingly.

“What is this place?” asked Castiel, squeezing Ember’s hand.

“Oh, yes. Excellent question,” said the entity. “You see, before God and Amara, creation, destruction, Heaven, Hell, your precious little Earth, what was there?”

“Nothing,” Castiel answered.

“Yes. That’s right. Nothing. Nothing but Empty. And you are soaking in it. Angels and demons, you all come here when you die.”

“Every angel that ever died is here?” asked Castiel.

“Yes, sleeping an endless peaceful sleep,” said the entity, jeering at him. “You know I… I was sleeping, too. Hey, uh, since we’re pals, there’s something I’ve gotta know. I’ve just gotta ask. Hmm.” 

Here the entity took on his most jeering look yet, and its eyes seemed suddenly painful to look at. “Why are you awake? ‘Cause fun fact—in all of forever, nothing ever wakes up here. I mean, ever. Ever. And second fun fact—when you woke up, I woke up, and I don’t like being awake. So…what’s up, smart guy?”

“I don’t know,” said Castiel honestly.

“Well, think!” yelled the entity.

“The Winchesters. Sam and Dean, they must’ve made a deal.”

“No. No, no, no. Not with me, and I’m—I’m the only one that has any pull here. Not Heaven, not Hell, not G-O-D himself. So think harder.” He pushed Castiel. “Rack that perky little brain of yours.”

Ember moved to get in front of Castiel, but the entity poked her as well, and she flew backward.

“Stay away from me,” snapped Castiel.

“Okay, fine. I’ll rack it for you,” said the entity.

Then the entity’s hands were on Castiel’s and Ember’s heads, and Ember felt only pain. She could hear herself screaming, and Castiel as well. It was pain like she’d never known before.

Then, finally, it stopped.

“What did… What did you do to me?” asked Castiel, recovering his breath before Ember.

“I—I read your mind, such as it is.”

“What do you want?” snapped Ember finally.

“What do I want? I want you to shut up. I want—hmm. Having you awake, it’s like a gnat flew right up here and it’s trapped and it’s buzzing.”

“Having me awake causes you pain,” Castiel said, and Ember felt a flare of hope. She could tell where this was going. _Jack. I want to see him again._

“If you can’t sleep, I can’t sleep. Yeah?” jeered the entity. “And I like sleep. I need sleep.”

“Then get rid of me,” dared Castiel.

“Oh, I should, should I?”

“Send us back to Earth.”

“Or I throw you so deep into the Empty that you can’t bother me anymore, hmm?” challenged the entity.

“Except you know that won’t work, or you would’ve done it already,” snapped Castiel, squeezing Ember’s hand again. She could tell he was bluffing. He wasn’t really sure how this would end, but he wanted the same thing as she did. _Send us back._

“Pretty smart,” said the entity. “Pretty smart, dummy.”

“Send… Us… Back.”

“That’s not part of the deal. No, no. Besides, you don’t want to go back,” said the entity.

“I thought you read our minds,” snapped Ember.

“Oh, save it,” said the entity. “I know what you hate. I know who you love… what you fear. There is nothing for you back there. No. Here. Let me show you.”

Once again, the entity’s hand was on her head. She could see every bad thing that had ever happened to her. Everything that had happened when she was a teenager, and all the things she never wanted to think about again. Dean sleeping with Anna. Carl’s death. Her break-up with Dean. Bobby’s death. Being stabbed. Her break-up with Castiel. Becoming a demon. _Lucifer._

She could hear herself screaming. Then, suddenly, it stopped. “Come on!” said the entity. “Let it end!”

The entity kicked Castiel. “Just let’s lay down. Let’s just try and sleep. Hmm? Think about it. Infinite peace, yes? No regrets. No pain. Kiddo, save yourself.”

“I’m already saved,” said Castiel.

The entity kicked Ember, who went sprawling across the black nothingness. Castiel moved toward it, but the entity kicked him again. 

Castiel stood up slowly, and Ember got up too, following him to confront the entity. _Jack._

Castiel took her hand again, squeezing it. “You can prance and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I’m awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane.”

The entity punched Castiel, but he didn’t let go of Ember’s hand. They both flew backward. He looked at her, just briefly, a fierce look in his eyes, and she nodded. “We will fight you,” Castiel said. “Fight you and fight you for…ever. For eternity.”

“No. No,” said the entity.

Castiel and Ember approached the entity, staring it in the face, though Ember felt as though her eyes were burning. “Release us,” Castiel commanded. “Release… us.”

***Jack POV***

March 22

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

“A milk run,” Sam had said. “In Vegas! It’ll be perfect, Dean, for their Spring Break! Kris can research, we’ll hit Vegas, and then we’ll all team up when we check out the haunting.”

“Well, I can’t say no to Vegas,” Dean had said flatly. He had walked away, leaving Sam looking disappointed but resigned.

Still, by Tuesday of Krissy’s Spring Break, the four of them, plus Eileen, had piled into the Impala and headed to Las Vegas, Nevada. “Can’t you make me a fake ID?” Krissy had begged Dean on the way there. “C’mon, you know I’m good at pool by now, you taught me yourself! I could run hustles with you!”

“Um… _no_,” snapped Dean. “You want to be a hunter, I get it. But let’s keep you on the good side of the law for as long as possible.”

“You have no business doing that,” Eileen spoke up. “You’re being taken along to research and work a case under our supervision, not to drink and gamble and pool hustle.”

“And you _have _a job, Kris, and plenty of money, thanks to Ember,” Sam pointed out. “It’s not like you _need_ to hustle pool, anyway.”

Jack didn’t know what most of this meant, though he knew a little about the money. Sam had informed him that when his mother had died, she had left him and her three other children a bunch of money. “I don’t know how long she must’ve been hitting AT – I mean, stashing away money - before she died,” Dean had said. “But it must’ve been awhile, to have stashed that amount.”

“I don’t need money,” Jack had said. “Do I?” He’d thought about it. “Um… maybe I do.”

“Well, for now, it’s best if you stay here with us,” Sam had said, “And we’ll provide everything you need. Ember also left a good deal of money in a separate account to Castiel to take care of you, and since he’s gone as well it went to us. So we’ll wait until you have a little more experience with dealing with money, and then we’ll decide what to do.”

That had been a month ago, and by now Sam had taught Jack how to exchange money, and even how to budget and save. More recently, Jack had gotten something called a “Debit Card” so that he could spend the money in his account, in addition to Sam. 

Then, yesterday, Sam had approached him. “Jack, I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a case in Las Vegas, Nevada. I was hoping that you and Krissy would want to go with Dean and I since it’s her Spring Break.”

“Sure!” Jack had agreed enthusiastically. He liked spending time with Dean, and with Krissy, because she was nice. He liked learning new things about the world.

“Well…” Sam had continued. “Las Vegas is kind of expensive. It’s… well, a lot of people go there to have fun… like a vacation.”

“Like the beach?” Jack asked.

“Like a beach for adults,” Sam had said, obviously trying to explain something that Jack wasn’t quite understanding. “There’s gambling, and… um, lots of things that Dean likes to do, that Eileen and I aren’t that keen on, but they’ll make Dean happy.”

“Okay,” Jack said, still waiting on Sam to get to the point.

“Well, Vegas is kind of expensive. So I was wondering if we could dip into the money Ember left us to be your caretaker.”

“Why are you asking me?” Jack asked. “She left it to you.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, whatever we didn’t spend was supposed to be turned over to you when you were legally an adult,” he explained. “But it didn’t quite work like that, because there are still things that we need to teach you…” Sam shook his head. “The point is, she left us an awful lot of money… even a trip to Vegas will barely make a dent. And I think it would be good for Dean to do something… fun.”

“It will make Dean happy?” Jack had asked. “Let’s do it.”

When Jack had done more research into Las Vegas, however, he really couldn’t understand what could possibly make Dean happy. “I don’t get understand,” he said, interrupting Dean and Krissy’s argument about a fake ID. “I read online that most people who go to Vegas spend an average of $578 gambling and lose most of it. That doesn’t sound very smart from a budgeting standpoint. Why do people go on vacation to lose money?”

This was obviously the wrong thing to say. All heads in the car turned toward Jack except for Dean, who was driving, and Eileen, who couldn’t hear. Everyone was wearing pitying expressions.

Finally, Krissy said, “It’s not the gambling itself that’s the fun part. First of all, Vegas is the perfect place to run pool hustles.”

“Pool hustles?” Jack asked, and Eileen, who by then had turned in her seat to see what everyone was looking at, shot a very mean look at Krissy.

“Vegas is a place where people bring plenty of money to spend on games,” said Sam. “And Dean is really good at a game called pool that you find in a bar sometimes. And if he doesn’t let other people know how good he is, he can win a bunch of money.”

“But isn’t that illegal?” Jack asked.

“Nope,” said Dean. “Not at all. It’s not my fault I’m better at pool than everybody else.”

“But you said you won’t let Krissy join you because it’s illegal,” Jack protested.

Eileen shook her head. “Pool hustling isn’t illegal. But it _is _illegal for you young adults to be in a place where pool is being played – a bar, or a casino – until you’re 21.”

“That’s why she wants a fake ID,” Sam explained.

“Oh,” Jack said. “So really… really you’re _making _money on this trip.”

“I’d better,” said Dean. “Plus, what happens in Vegas… stays in Vegas.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The group arrived in Vegas late that night, then slept in late. As a group, they headed to the McGowan house, the haunted house that had led them to Vegas in the first place.

“EMF is lighting up like a Christmas tree,” Krissy said. “But I’m not seeing any spirits.”

“Why wouldn’t they be here?” Jack asked Dean after another half hour.

Dean shrugged. “Sometimes they’re more active at night, or during certain phases of the moon, or… I don’t know, when some witch and some angel collide in mid-air and do some magic hoo-doo. Who knows? That’s your job to find out.” And he grinned evilly. “Either way, you’re right, this is a bust. Sammy, Eileen, and I are gonna hit the casinos, and you two hit the books. We’ll be back in a few hours, and you can tell us what you’ve learned.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Okay,” Krissy said several hours later, checking her phone. “Sam just texted me that they’re on the way back. Let’s review what we’ve found out.”

“The house was built in the 1960’s,” Jack started. He had been in charge of gathering previous information about the home and its owners. “The first owner was called Sebastian DeLong, and he only lived there for 10 years before selling the house, moving out, and living a normal life. Then Dmitri McGowan moved in in 1977.

“McGowan was killed by his new wife in 1978,” he added. “She dropped a bowling ball on his head. We can be pretty sure that’s the ghost, because the girl that saw it back in 1983 described a guy whose head had been smashed in. All charges against the wife were dropped because she had been beaten to a pulp, and it was obvious that she had attacked him in self-defense… Krissy?”

Krissy shifted uncomfortably, tucking her brown hair behind her ear. Jack felt an uncomfortable swooping sensation in his stomach, and wondered once again if Krissy was secretly a witch. “Obviously Mrs. McGowan – or Mrs. Rose, as she is now – wasn’t too keen on seeing me, so I told her I was the step-sister of the little boys who died, and gave her $200 of my Vegas money.”

Jack thought for a moment. “I can repay you,” he said, fishing money out of his pocket.

“Anyway, Mrs. Rose told me Dmitri McGowan was abusive, and would beat her when he would drink. It only ever happened at night, which might explain why the ghost is only ever seen at night… maybe. I don’t know. That night he went absolutely crazy. She’d been out to see a friend, and he had been sure she was with another man. He’d promised he would haunt her forever, and never leave.

“She said that about a week after his death, she was packing up the last of the boxes when his ghost came after her. She hit it with an iron skillet and ran out of the house, and never came back. She told me she left all of his stuff there and everything.”

“Which makes sense,” Jack put in, “Because he was cremated. So his ghost must be tied to something in the house.”

“Mrs. Rose said the most important thing to him was his wedding ring, and hers, which she left behind. So if the spirit is tied to anything, it’ll be those.”

“Okay,” said Jack. “So skip ahead to 1983, a nice family of four moves in, the Glasco’s. Within a week of closing they’ve moved out, said they don’t want the house anymore. They wouldn’t say why, but the paper mentioned the little girl was crying that she saw a ghost with a bashed-in head. Kris, did you get to talk to that family?”

Krissy shook her head. “The last known address for them puts them in Oak Lawn, Illinois, and none of them are picking up their phones.

“Okay,” said Jack. “So, putting the other pieces together, only three families have moved into that house since 1983: the Collins family in 1991, a young couple with two children, the Ackles family in 1999, another young couple with a tiny baby, and most recently the Padalecki family, a young couple with two young boys. All of them were killed, or disappeared, within the first week, but the bodies of the Ackles family were the only ones recovered. So the bodies of the Collins family and the Padalecki family are still in there… somewhere.” This whole thing was a potent mixture of fascinating and disgusting.

“Sounds like,” Krissy said. “The question is why.”

“When I was reading about the Ackles family, it said the bodies were found just inside the door by a family friend who was visiting the next day,” said Jack. “They put the time of death as maybe 4AM.”

Krissy thought for a moment. “Maybe… they had almost gotten out when the ghost killed them. And then the ghost didn’t have enough strength before daylight to move them… wherever he moved the other bodies… so he just left them there and they were found the next day?” She shrugged. “It’s as good a theory as any.”

Suddenly Jack heard Dean coming down the hallway. “I mean, I don’t want to leave you guys out there all by yourselves. But Asian twins, Sammy, _Asian twins, and they’re both models!”_

“I’m sure four of us is enough to handle one pissed off ghost,” Sam’s voice said. 

“I mean, do you _know_ how long I’ve waited for this moment?” asked Dean.

“Since five minutes ago when you found them in the lobby and they invited you up to their room?” Eileen said sarcastically.

“Hey, maybe we ought to cool it a little bit,” Sam said. “I mean, Jack has really good hearing…”

“Nah,” said Dean. Jack could hear the door begin to open. “Even with his angel hearing, the only way he’d be able to hear us through these walls if he was sitting just inside the … door.” Dean and Jack came eye to eye.

“What’s so great about Asian twins who are models?” Jack asked curiously. “And why are you going to their room? I thought you were coming with us.”

Sam cuffed Dean over the head, and Eileen threw him a very dirty look. Krissy buried her face in her hands.

Finally, Eileen said, “Krissy, do you want to… I don’t know, be… literally anywhere but here?”

“Very much,” said Krissy. On the way out of the room, she punched Dean hard on the arm. “Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of surrogate father, Dean?” she snapped, and Dean looked mortified.

Once the girls had left, Dean turned to Jack.

“Okay, now, we need to have an understanding,” said Dean, looking squarely at Jack. “You’re helpful on hunts, and you’re not as evil as I originally thought you were. But you can’t be using your freaky angel hearing to call me on my night moves in front of my children, especially Kris.”

“I… I’m sorry,” said Jack, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he had done wrong.

Regardless, Dean smiled. He turned to Sam. “Call me if you need anything, man.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Have fun, jerk.”

When Dean had left, Sam turned to Jack. “Look, Jack, it’s not your fault. Dean is right, though, when you hear something you’re not supposed to, just ask me in private, okay?” 

Jack nodded. “How do I know when I hear something I’m not supposed to hear?”

Sam shook his head, then smiled. “You’ll… you’ll get better at this with time. Anyway, I’m gonna call Eileen,” he added. “I want to hear what you three have found out.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The hunt went south almost as soon as they walked in the door of the McGowan house. They were met immediately by the ghost of a small boy. “I’m Tom,” he said. “Have you come to save me from the mean people?”

Suddenly, the door slammed shut, and the ghost of Tom disappeared with a small _whoosh_. In his place stood no less than six ghosts. They’d counted on Mr. McGowan, who was every bit as gruesome as Jack had imagined. His right eye was bugged out, as though it had been just on the verge of popping when he had died. The entire left side of his face was mangled, as though… well, as though it had been squashed by a bowling ball. 

What they hadn’t counted on were the other five ghosts – a man with dark hair, a woman, a young boy and girl, and a teenager with longer blond hair.

Pandemonium broke out as the ghosts rushed them. The four of them used each other for cover, banding into a tight circle. “Try the door!” yelled Sam, who had gone in first and was the furthest inside.

“It’s locked,” said Krissy, who was back-to-back with Jack and closest to the door. “I can’t break it!”

“We’ll have to move forward!” yelled Sam again, blasting back a small girl with rock salt and ducking as the dark-haired man swung at him.

Suddenly Krissy yelled, “This way!” and Jack felt a tug as the group moved in her direction.

By the time they were across the foyer and moving into the living room, everything had fallen silent. The ghosts were no longer rushing them. Jack knew that it took some ghosts more time than others after they were shot by rock salt, and he hoped that at least some of these ghosts would be down for hours at a time. 

“Where are we going?” asked Sam as they made their way into the living room.

_Crack. _“McGowan,” Eileen said, cocking her shotgun.

“Following Tom Padalecki,” said Krissy. “The little boy. I think he knows where the bodies are. At least, I hope he does.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Eileen said. “I thought there was only _one_ ghost…”

“McGowan must’ve trapped the other souls here, and spelled them to fight for him somehow,” said Sam. Eileen was right next to Jack, and out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Sam’s hand on Eileen’s arm, signing to her as best he could.

_Crack!_ “I got the Collins boy, I think,” said Krissy. 

_Crack! Crack! _“McGowan,” said Sam. “He didn’t go down on the first one.”

Then the dark-haired man – Mr. Collins – appeared in front of Jack, who swung the iron bar he had been given. “Uh, Mr. Collins,” he said, by way of explanation, since that appeared to be what the others were doing. 

Finally, just as they headed into a bedroom, Krissy said, “Got it!” Jack caught just the smallest glint of gold, and he heard flames. A fire!

Eileen turned him around to see just as McGowan began to burn, flames tickling his skin as he screamed.

Just as he began to disappear, however, McGowan rushed at Krissy, who was closest to him. She shot him with rock salt, but the kickback of the gun and the force of her scramble sideways sent her toppling through the wall, and into what Jack now realized was a hidden closet.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, helping Krissy stand.

“Yeah,” she said, standing up gingerly with a hiss.

“Look!” Eileen exclaimed, and the other four of them turned around to look back into the living room. In the living room stood nine ghosts. Jack recognized all four of the Collinses, gathered together in one corner, but they were no longer attacking, just smiling. Nearby them was the blond teenager, who had a relieved look on his face. In another corner of the living room was Tom Padalecki, along with his mother, father, and younger brother. “Thank you for freeing us,” said Tom, smiling at the group of them and holding on to his mother’s dress. Then, in a burst of white light, all nine ghosts had disappeared.

“Are they gone?” asked Eileen.

“I think so,” said Sam, his hand still in Eileen’s.

“Found the bodies,” said Krissy through clenched teeth. Krissy was now farthest into the bedroom, and they followed her gaze down into the hidden closet. 

Jack wanted to throw up. There in the closet were the remains of what totaled at 9 bodies. The Padaleckis were on top, still visible and not yet decayed. Tom was almost pristine, aside from the smell. There were also 5 other skeletons, two tiny ones and three bigger ones. Jack recognized the blond-haired teenager from the shirt the ghost had been wearing, depicting a band called the Beatles. The brown-haired man’s tie belied his body, though it had been half-eaten by maggots.

“Krissy, you’re hurt,” said Sam, and Jack finally looked away from the gruesome sight in front of him. 

“It’s nothing,” said Krissy. “I just sliced myself on a jagged piece of wall when I fell.”

But Jack could see that it wasn’t “nothing.” The gash in Krissy’s leg was more than six inches long, and bleeding all over her jeans. Honestly, he was surprised the girl was still standing upright. Just as he thought that, she collapsed, falling into Sam’s arms.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

On the way back to the motel, Jack felt helpless. He couldn’t heal Krissy. He _should _be able to heal Krissy… he was half-angel, after all. 

Nobody had asked him to heal Krissy, but he still felt as though somehow he had failed. Sam had shot a couple of significant looks at him, but other than that, the group left him to his own devices.

Sam carried Krissy into the motel, lying her down gingerly on the bed. Eileen grabbed bandages and alcohol, and began cleaning Krissy’s wound with it.

Krissy began to wince, clearly trying not to scream.

Finally, Jack felt it, in spite of himself. The power flowed through him. Without stopping to think, he put his hand on Krissy’s arm. In front of his eyes, her leg healed, the deep red gash closing and leaving new, pristine skin.

There was silence for a moment. Then Krissy whispered, “Thanks, Jack!’

“That was great, Jack,” said Sam, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder. Eileen gave him a reassuring smile, and Jack felt a swoop of pride.

After that, everyone stayed up for awhile to talk. Sam allowed each of the children one celebratory beer. Jack thought it was disgusting.

“Your mother thought so, too,” he said, smiling gently.

Eventually, Sam and Eileen retired to their room across the hall. “Dean should be back in a few,” Sam added. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Jack had never been alone with Krissy before for more than a few seconds at a time. He looked curiously at her, and found, to his surprise that she was staring back. As he watched, her cheeks began to grow red.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her. He became aware, suddenly, that they were both sitting on the same bed. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal a few minutes ago. There was very little room in the motel room, and the four of them had been sitting in a semi-circle talking. Now, however, it seemed as though she was uncomfortably close. Jack wondered if he should move, but it was _his _bed, after all.

“Nothing,” she said, looking away from him. “Just, um… thanks for healing me.” She looked at him stubbornly, turning her nose in the air. “You didn’t have to, you know.”

“I don’t like to see people in pain,” Jack said slowly.

Krissy smiled, her face suddenly becoming somehow softer. “I know, Jack.” She sighed. “People underestimate you, you know? They think, without Ember and Castiel, and given that you’re at least part demon…” She shook her head. “You’re a good person, Jack.”

He smiled back. Suddenly, he realized that her hand was covering his. A jolt of electricity went through him, and he looked back at her, stunned. He felt as though he was under her spell, but somehow, innately, he knew that this was _not _a spell. He was struck immediately by how beautiful she was – stubborn, but persistent, and tough, and gorgeous.

“You’re staring at me,” she said accusatorily, but Jack noticed that there was a hitch in her breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking away just for a second. Then, because it seemed the right thing to say, he said, “You’re beautiful.”

Jack noticed, briefly, that her face was slowly coming toward his. Time seemed to stop. He brought his face closer to hers as well, just a fraction of an inch, and then they were kissing. 

Jack had seen kissing in the movies, but he had never imagined it could be like this. He was flying, and electricity was running through his entire body. 

Suddenly the door opened with a crash, and they heard Dean’s voice. “Well, kids, it’s time to – _what the fuck.”_

Suddenly Jack felt himself lifted off of the floor and tossed aside. He hit the wall, crashing into it and sliding to the bottom. Then he was being picked up again, and he felt something hard collide with his jaw. He tried to summon his powers, but things were confused, and he wasn’t very good at it yet. 

What sort of monster was this?

Krissy was screaming. “Jesus, Dean, we were just _kissing, _it wasn’t-…”

Dean? Dean had thrown him across the room? For kissing Krissy? He didn’t want to believe it, but Dean’s face towered over him, still screaming, though at least he had stopped hurting him. “We take you into our _home_, we feed you our _food_, and we didn’t _want _to – _I _didn’t want to, especially. I told Sammy you were a _mistake_, and here’s the proof. How _dare _you kiss her! You _know _what will happen, and still you-…”

But Dean was forcibly turned around by Krissy, who was in tears. “_Fuck you, _Dean Winchester! I see you! I see why she left you now! You’re so full of _shit! _You _leave us_, when we come to Vegas _for you_, to go fuck a couple of stupid Asian twins, and after I get hurt and he _heals me, _you beat him up for just _kissing me_? You’re pathetic, Dean Winchester! You’re a pathetic, hypocritical excuse for a human being, much less a father!”

The words rang out through the room, loud and clear. Sam and Eileen had fled into the room, Sam still shirtless and Eileen finishing pulling on a robe. Dean was terrifying when he was angry, but he was _nothing _to Krissy.

Without another word, Dean made a beeline for the door, slamming it on his way out.

“Aaaaaarrrrgggg!” Krissy screamed, and made to follow him, but Eileen jumped forward. “More girl talk?” she asked the younger girl.

Krissy glared daggers at her, but said, “Fine. Then at least I won’t risk running into _him.”_ Without another word, she followed Eileen into the other hotel room.

Sam sighed wearily, as though he was still trying to wrap his head around everything. Finally, after several moments of silence, he asked, “So… what happened?” Jack thought he looked like someone who desperately didn’t want to have a discussion, but had resigned himself to it. 

Jack thought a moment. “We… kissed,” he said. “And Dean… went… crazy.” He touched his jaw, but it wasn’t even tender – it had already healed.

Sam looked minutely angry for a second, then rearranged his features again into kind tiredness. “Did she kiss you, or did you kiss her?”

“Um…” Jack tried to remember. It had all been a haze of wonderful. _Her face coming closer_… “She kissed me, I think. Or maybe we both kissed each other.”

Sam smiled slightly. “Jack, you have to understand that when you’re on a hunt, it brings out emotions in people that ordinarily are held in check. Sometimes you do things that you wouldn’t ordinarily-…”

“But I liked it,” Jack said. “She’s – she’s beautiful. I think – I think I love her. Is that what I’ve been feeling all these months? When I asked you if she was a witch? It was because I – I _love _her.”

Sam’s face went through several different expressions at once. First surprise, then anger, then amusement, and finally, fatigue.

Very slowly, the younger Winchester brother sighed, sitting down on Jack’s bed. “OK, Jack, look,” he said. “We’ve been kind of avoiding – um, the subject of sex, because… well, it’s…”

“Uncomfortable?” Jack asked, noting Sam’s downcast eyes. He rather thought that this conversation was uncomfortable only because Sam chose to make it so, but it was still becoming more uncomfortable by the minute.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “And… you know, this was always sort of your mother’s thing… but... see, sometimes kissing can lead to sex.”

Finally, he met Jack’s eyes, just in time for Jack to look down at his lap. He had seen porn once, on the computer. He didn’t want that with Krissy. It was too rough. Did Krissy want that when she kissed him? Would he want that someday?

Sam started to speak again. “Even though you look like you’re 18 or 19, there are things about the world you still don’t understand. And one of those things that you might not understand is that sometimes sex leads to… babies.”

Jack felt another shock go through his system. He didn’t want a child! “But Dean doesn’t have a child,” he protested. “Or you and Eileen.”

Sam rolled his eyes, turning slightly red, and repositioned himself on the bed. He still wasn’t looking at Jack. “Jack, when two people want to have sex, but not have children, there are, um, things they can do to make sure they don’t get pregnant.”

“Like spells?”

“Sometimes, but more like… well, anyway. The point is, nothing is foolproof. There are a thousand different ways that people use to have sex without having children, but none of them are 100%. Sometimes people have… _accidents._

“But you…” he looked at Jack sharply. “You _can’t _have an accident… you can’t have a child at all. You’re _half-angel._ If you have an accident_…_ it’ll be like it was… with your mother.”

Jack didn’t understand, though a horrible notion was swimming in his head.

“A human body can’t tolerate the birth of a half-angel,” Sam explained. “Castiel was supposed to help heal your mother so that she wouldn’t die, but when Cas died...” Sam sighed. “None of that was your fault, okay? You didn’t know. You were… you were just _born. _But you can’t… you can’t let it happen again. Not to someone Dean cares about, especially.”

And suddenly it clunked into place. _Krissy would die._ “Sam…” he said, his eyes wide. “Sam, I’m so sorry… I didn’t know. I just didn’t _know._ Don’t worry. I’ll never kiss anyone again, ever. I’ll never-…_”_

“No, wait,” he said, sighing again. “No, that’s not right either. Look, Jack. Maybe when you’re a little older, with a little more experience… and after the whole Asmodeus, and Lucifer thing figures itself out… maybe you’ll find a nice girl that you like, that you want to settle down with. One that doesn’t want kids of her own, because that’s important. Like Eileen and I. And someone – probably Dean, when he gets past being mad – will teach you how to use enough methods to prevent pregnancy so that it shouldn’t be an issue. And it’ll be fine. But not – _not_ Krissy, not ever. Do you understand? Because she’s Dean’s daughter. And Dean… he’s seen too much. He’s scared for her, that’s all. You know how Dean is, usually, and even when he thought you were evil he still didn’t hurt you. Only fear can make Dean act like that.”

Slowly, Jack nodded. “I’m sorry, Sam,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Sam said. “Don’t worry… we’ll get all this straightened out.”

But Jack wasn’t so sure.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The ride from Las Vegas to the bunker was quiet. Krissy was sniffling in the corner and refusing to look at everyone, except to glare at Dean. Dean was glaring at Jack when he was sure no one else was looking. Sam occasionally attempted conversation, but since no one but Eileen would participate, he eventually allowed Dean to turn on the radio and he and Eileen fell asleep. 

Finally, at a gas station, Jack took his opportunity to talk to Dean alone. “What do you want?” Dean snapped as he turned around after paying for gas and was met with Jack’s hopeful face.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know kissing can lead to sex and sex can lead to babies, and I don’t want Krissy to die like Mom did. I just didn’t know. Nobody told me, and I’ll never touch her again, okay? I swear it.”

Dean’s face, like Sam’s the day before, went through a myriad of emotions very fast: first anger, then shock, then grief, and finally, his typical gruff exterior. “Well, see that you don’t!” he said. “If you ever lay a finger on her again, I’ll give you an injury you can’t heal from. Now get back in the damn car, there’s this diner in Colorado I want to get to before it closes.”

Jack understood that to mean that Dean had forgiven him, at least for the moment. He was lucky.

Now, finally, all of the pieces seemed to be in place. This, then, was why Dean had blamed Ember’s death on him. _“Castiel was supposed to help heal her so that she wouldn’t die, but when Cas died... None of that was your fault, okay? You didn’t know. You were… you were just born. But you can’t… you can’t let it happen again. Not to someone Dean cares about, especially.”_

Things were going to be okay again. Now he just had to avoid Krissy… probably forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter got super long, but I think it's pretty good so I'm okay with that. Obviously the names I used for this original Winchester case are borrowed from some of the actors. I was having trouble coming up with names, so I thought, Eh, what the heck?
> 
> I've also wanted for awhile to play with the idea of Jack possibly hooking up with or having a crush on Krissy, so that played out here as well. Review, review, review!


	64. Tombstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter covers about 5 months, so mind the time skips.

***Ember POV***

March 28

“Ember. Wake up.”

Ember felt horrible. Her legs were stiff. She had energy, but it felt as though she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in a century. She didn’t want to move, but she desperately needed food.

_What the hell?_ Suddenly, she remembered. She remembered Castiel dying, and her body breaking, and the Empty.

“Cas,” she whispered, her eyes flying open. And there he was, just as she had hoped – whole, and alive, and real. 

“Ember,” he said, and he hugged her, lifting her to her feet.

They were in the middle of a large field, what must’ve been miles from civilization. 

“We made it!” Ember said, letting out a yell of relief. Castiel kissed her on the mouth, and he felt real – warm, and solid. 

When he set her down, her stomach growled, and he laughed. “Typical,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“Where are we?” she asked him.

“Somewhere in rural South Carolina,” Castiel said, using his angel powers to sense the world around him.

Ember sighed. “_When _are we?”

“March 28, 2017,” he said immediately. “Four forty-five in the evening.”

“_March?!”_ Ember said, alarmed. “We’ve been dead for _three months?”_

“I’m not sure how it all works,” Castiel said. “But it doesn’t feel that long.”

Ember sighed. “Well, c’mon, let’s go.” She held Castiel’s hand and closed her eyes.

Nothing happened.

“What the hell?!” Ember said, angrily.

Castiel put his hand on her, sensing her powers. “Your powers have reverted to what they were immediately after the Apocalypse,” he explained. “To your original level.”

“What!?” she exclaimed, horrified. “Why?”

“You are no longer pregnant with a half-angel, half-demon child,” he reminded her. “And Lucifer is shut in the alternate reality.”

“But what about after I became a demon?” Ember said. “When I – when I almost went dark side, and afterward I was able to teleport-…”

Castiel shook his head. “You don’t seem to have retained residual power from the Demon Blood Bonds. This is a clean slate, in all respects, I suppose,” he said. “You no longer bear the marks of pregnancy, either. My guess is that your old scars are healed, too.”

He was right. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT,” she said.

Castiel smiled at her. “We should be happy,” he reminded her. “If this is indeed a clean slate, the angels will allow you to enter Heaven now. You may have to earn your way back again, but this won’t take you long.”

“I _am _happy,” Ember said, sighing. “I just… I liked being able to teleport.”

“I liked being able to fly, too,” Castiel reminded her. “But it seems I was not as lucky with the clean slate.”

Ember sighed. “Well, walking it is, then,” she said. She went invisible, then reappeared. “Thank God,” she said. “At least I still have that. I can grab some money when we get back to town, and we can be back in Kansas by tomorrow evening.”

***Castiel POV***

March 28, Noon

It had been a long day. They had spent an hour or so walking back to civilization. Ember had walked into a bank, invisible, and grabbed about $600, which would be enough money until they returned to Kansas. Afterward, Ember had grabbed a meal from Wendy’s, and then bought a new cell phone from the local AT&T.

Dean and Sam were excited to hear from them, of course, but Castiel could tell that Dean in particular was skeptical at best.

“Look, I don’t know who you are and what you’re playing at, but-…”

There was a clatter, and Castiel suspected that Sam had intercepted the phone call. Sure enough, Sam’s voice said, “Look, Ember, if you really are back, we’d be… I mean…” He stopped, his voice full of emotion. “But you can understand our skepticism,” he finished finally.

The rocks in the parking lot outside of the AT&T store began to shake, and Castiel realized that it was Ember venting her frustration. He put a calming hand on her shoulder, and the rocks clattered to the ground. “Jack. My – our son,” she said, looking over at Castiel. “Sam, please. Is he… is he okay? Is he with you guys? And Krissy…”

Castiel could hear Dean yelling, “Don’t tell her _anything!”_

Sam sighed. “Ember, you have to understand, until we can…”

“I know, Sam,” she snapped into the receiver. “Just tell me… tell me if they’re okay. If they’re _hurt, _or… and Jack…”

“Everyone’s alive,” Sam said. “No one is hurt.”

There was more to the story, Castiel could tell, but he could also sense that Sam was telling the truth – everyone was alive, and no one was hurt. Finally, Ember gave a sigh of relief and made arrangements to meet them at the halfway point between their locations, somewhere in southern Illinois, the following afternoon.

It wasn’t until they had finally stopped at a hotel for the night that a new feeling began to creep its way into Castiel’s mind. Ember had said she was going to take a shower, and left the bathroom door open.

It was what she used to do… before. Before their break-up, before his war against Metatron, before Lucifer, before Amara, before Jack. Before the Winchester brothers even knew about their relationship, back when it was just the two of them, and he was human and working at that stupid gas station in Rhode Island.

He wanted… things that he had wanted every day, ever since that last time, a few days before she had become a demon. He had never believed he could have that with her again, though - not even during the nearly two weeks they had been together before their death, when she was nearly nine months pregnant. It had been discussed, of course, and perhaps sex would have occurred had she _not _been about to give birth…

Still, even that conversation had occurred nearly 3 months ago, now. Being with Ember in that way seemed like it was a lifetime ago, and Lucifer had forced his way between them since then. Castiel knew that Ember had forgiven him for letting Lucifer into his vessel, and everything that had happened as a result, but this was a new step entirely.

And yet the door was left open.

Castiel paced just out of eyeshot of the bathroom. Perhaps he could look in and see – no, that wouldn’t work.

What would Dean do?

Fine. Just… _fine._ Life was too short, even for an angel – especially for an angel in love with a half-demon.

The moment he entered the bathroom, he felt her, her eyes met his, and the look she gave him shook him, settling somewhere south of his waistline. 

She had been drying herself when he entered, but as he watched she tossed aside the towel. She looked just like he remembered her, from before the pregnancy. Not that she didn’t look beautiful during the pregnancy – he had wanted her just as badly then, of course. A fully sentient nephilim son had made that impossible at the time, however, so he hadn’t even attempted it. He had settled for the sheer pleasure of access to her mind on a few occasions, which had been truly amazing, and far more than he deserved.

Now, however, she was naked, and she was alone, and she was _his_, and there was nothing between them but his clothes. His trenchcoat was off halfway across the bathroom floor, and she met him shortly after that, her hands tearing at his dress shirt and his hands cupping her naked bottom and forcing her against the wall.

She struggled again with his dress shirt and he became frustrated and simply vanished it, along with his pants. Then he was inside her, and he had barely touched her when she arched against him in her first orgasm of many (he would make sure of that).

It had been a very long time, and it was going to be a very long night.

***Ember POV***

March 29, Afternoon

The plan had been for Ember to sleep at the motel room, but that hadn’t exactly happened, and neither of them were particularly upset about it. Their nighttime activites had left Ember more exhausted than ever, so Castiel drove for most of the day while Ember slept in the car, her hand resting lightly on his thigh.

Finally, they reached the assigned meeting place for ditching their stolen car and hooking up with the Winchesters, a cross-street in southern Illinois. Ember already had the silver knife ready, along with holy water cut with salt. She knew the boys hadn’t believed her over the phone. 

“Cas, is that really you?” asked Dean, stepping away from the Impala once Ember had finished the “salt-silver-holy water” process. “Em… Ember?”

Ember smiled, running to hug first Dean, and then Sam.

“You – you died,” said Sam. “Both of you. We-…”

“We were dead,” said Castiel. “But then I… annoyed an ancient cosmic being so much that he sent us back.”

“I don't even know what to say,” Sam said, his large body still draped around Ember’s.

“I do,” said Dean, embracing Castiel. “Welcome home, pal.”

“Where were you?” Sam asked. “In Heaven?”

“No,” Castiel answered as Sam disentangled himself from Ember to hug Castiel. “No, I was in the Empty.”

“Really?” Dean asked, helping Ember into the back of the Impala.

“Apparently, it's where angels and demons go when they die. And Ember… you know they wouldn’t let her go to Heaven after…” He shrugged apologetically.

“What was it like?”

“Well, it's dark and...nothing,” Castiel answered. “It's like...nothing. I was sleeping, and then I heard a voice that said my name, and I woke up. I thought you… had done something.”

“No, we… we didn't even think we could bring you back,” said Dean in surprise. Castiel and Ember shared a significant look.

“So who was it?” asked Sam. “Chuck – uh, God?”

“No,” said Ember.

“No, he has no power in the Empty,” confirmed Castiel.

“Well, then, who does?” asked Dean.

_Jack._

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Sam and Dean spent the next several hours explaining to Ember and Castiel everything that had happened since they had died. Ember was relieved to find out that Sam and Dean had taken in Jack, and had also continued to look after Krissy. She couldn’t have been more proud, and she could tell that Castiel felt the same. Jack _was _turning into a good person, even though Ember and Castiel hadn’t been there for the first three months of his life.

So much had happened, though. Asmodeus, and Jack’s first hunting trip, and the use of his powers… it was all too much, too fast, and Ember felt a whirlwind of emotions.

Ember had been gone for three months before, of course, when she had been a demon, but never like this. Never before had she left her children and the brothers in such a precarious situation, not to mention the half-demon, half-angel child that was waiting at home. Ember spent much of the car ride home catching up with Krissy by phone, and then Aidan and Josephine as well. They all agreed to meet at the bunker that evening, where Ember and Castiel would meet their son for the first time. 

Ember couldn’t help but notice that Krissy avoided the subject of Dean entirely and turned down Ember’s offer to pass the phone to him, despite the fact that she knew he was driving the car. “Is there something going on between you and Krissy?” Ember asked Dean after she had hung up with her daughter.

“Just normal parenting stuff is all,” said Dean evasively. “She’s been pissed at me for the last week or so.”

Sam gave another snort of laughter.

Castiel and Ember looked at each other with suspicion, but there were a million other questions to ask, and neither wanted to dwell on this one.

Finally, the four of them crossed the threshold of the bunker. Ember grabbed Castiel’s hand, and he shot her a wide, unabandoned smile that made her giggle out loud.

Jack was typing at a computer in the living room when they walked in. He was engaged, and didn’t look at them. “How'd your case go?” he asked distractedly. He was tall, and lanky, and reminded Ember of a younger-looking Castiel. The brothers had warned her that he had been born a teenager, but Ember still felt a pang of guilt for the time with him that she had lost.

“Well…” said Dean.

“Jack, um…”

“What's wrong?” asked Jack, swiveling around, his eyes wide. He was truly beautiful, Ember thought, and Castiel squeezed her hand as they stepped out of the shadows. His resemblance to Castiel – both to Castiel’s vessel and to Castiel’s grace, which Ember could recognize – was uncanny. There was no doubt now, Ember thought, as to the boy’s father.

“Hello, Jack,” Castiel said.

Jack’s eyes had shot wide. “F-father? _Mother?”_

Ember nodded and smiled. 

“No,” Jack said wonderously. “We burned your body, and what's burned stays dead. How...”

“Well, that's the question we've been askin',” said Dean.

“Jack… did you, uh… Did you bring Cas back?”

Jack considered, and Ember was struck by how much his contemplative look looked like Castiel’s. “I don't know. I wanted you back. I… _begged_ for you to come back, but...”

“Well, here they are,” said Dean.

“Because of me?” Jack said, looking at Sam. Ember understood that Sam had been like Jack’s father these past few months, and she felt again a pang of regret for the time she had missed with him. She smiled fondly, because she’d never seen the look on Sam’s face before – one of fatherly affection. He seemed softer, somehow, than he had been the last time she had seen him. She wondered if that was because of Jack, Eileen, or both.

“We don't know,” Sam admitted. “We don't know, Jack. But we– we– we think maybe.”

“Thank you, Jack,” said Castiel solemnly. They stared at each other for a second, and then Jack came over and embraced the two of them, without preamble. Ember lost herself in the hug – _finally_, her _son._

“I missed you so much,” Jack said.

“Sam and Dean tell me you're doing well,” Castiel said, but he couldn’t keep his own affection out of his voice.

“I am,” Jack said grinning. “I… Watch this.”

Jack walked back to the table with the computer, and used his finger to levitate a pencil for a few seconds, then laughed.

“Wow,” said Sam, with a small smile toward Ember.

“I can move the pencil,” he said, looking at both of his parents for approval.

It was perfect.

***Ember POV***

March 31, Morning

Castiel and Ember spent the next two days in the bunker. Dean was receptive to them being there, and even asked them to move in. “Your house in Conway Springs isn’t as safe as here is, for Jack,” he pointed out. “Plus it’s not like we don’t have plenty of room,” he added. “Stick around.”

It wasn’t a viable solution, however. First, Krissy was still living at the house in Conway Springs, where she attended community college. Also, despite the fact that Ember and Castiel were comfortable in their friendship with Dean and vice versa, continuing to live at his house was a different matter entirely. Ember had a feeling that Dean had offered the bunker out of his happiness that they were alive, but that a long-term stay might bring complications she didn’t want to consider.

In the end, therefore, Castiel and Ember decided to move back to the home in Conway Springs, and Jack (like Krissy) would spend his time in both places.

Dean nodded. “Krissy comes on the weekends usually,” he said when this plan was initially discussed. “Maybe Jack should do the opposite.” He shot a significant look at Jack that Ember didn’t miss.

“Well, hopefully I’ll be able to teach him how to fly,” said Castiel. “After that it won’t be an issue, I suppose, and he can come and go as he pleases. He’s like Ember – he’s half-angel and half-demon, so normal warding won’t apply.”

“Okay,” said Dean. “Are you sure you don’t want Krissy to come to the bunker for the weekend? Give you some time with just the two of you and Jack?”

“No,” Ember said, confused. “I want to spend time with all of my children.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” Dean grumbled removing a flask from his pocket. “That’s fine.”

***Castiel POV***

March 31, Evening

Their first day back at Conway Springs was a Thursday. Sam had warned Castiel and Ember that Jack was unsure of his powers and hesitant to use them, so Castiel was very cautious when approaching the subject.

“I’ve always found cars to be cramped and uncomfortable,” he said as the three of them drove back to Conway Springs.

Jack nodded thoughtfully. “They’re okay, I suppose,” he said. “I like the scenery.”

“It’s nothing like flying though,” Castiel said. “I miss flying very much.”

“Why… why can’t you fly?” asked Jack. “If… if you don’t mind me asking. I know your wings are damaged…”

Ember said nothing, but reached out to take Castiel’s hand with her right hand while keeping her left hand on the wheel.

“I followed the advice of a mad angel,” Castiel said. “And I made a poor decision. It cost me a great deal, including my wings.”

Jack looked as though he regretted asking, and fell silent. Just when he looked as though he would let the subject drop, Castiel said, “But I still remember how to fly. Jack, would you like me to teach you how to fly? It’s much easier than using our magic.”

Jack looked at him eagerly. “I’ve done it a couple of times,” he admitted. “I just… don’t know how I did it.”

Castiel smiled at him. “We’ll try tomorrow,” he said. “I don’t think it’ll take you long to get the hang of it.”

***Ember POV***

April 1, Afternoon

“It’ll feel awkward, at first, but you’ve made it all the way across the living room,” Castiel was coaching Jack. 

Ember stood invisible at the door. She knew that Castiel could see her, and probably Jack, too, but she hoped that she could watch this beautiful scene without disturbing her son. 

Suddenly the door slammed behind her, and Jack froze.

Krissy came into the room, suddenly, carrying her backpack. “Hi, Jack,” she said, beaming at him and approaching him cautiously. “I forgot you’d be here.”

Jack shot a fearful look at Krissy, turned bright red, and disappeared.

“What the hell?” Ember asked the room at large.

“I’m not sure,” said Castiel. “I guess he got the hang of flying, though.”

Krissy, however, looked disappointed, and then murderous. “Ask my stupid surrogate father,” she said, marching away. Before she reached the door, however, she turned back toward Ember and Castiel. “I’m really glad you’re back,” she told them. “Just so you know.” Then her look got cold again, and she added, “The standard of parenting has gone way down lately.” She slammed the door with a bang.

“Jack,” Castiel allowed as Ember looked around frantically, and Ember knew he was praying. “Please come back. You disappeared so suddenly. Are you okay?”

A few seconds later, Ember received a call from Jack, on Sam’s phone. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “I… I panicked. I can’t…” Ember could hear him beginning to swallow. “I can’t seem to fly back, though. Maybe… I’ll just stay here tonight, and try again in the morning.”

“Nonsense,” said Sam’s voice, stealing the phone from Jack. “Ember, I’m happy to bring him a couple of hours in your direction if one of you can meet me halfway.”

“That’s fine,” Ember said. “But Sam, what’s going on? Krissy walked in and then suddenly Jack disappeared. And then Krissy got all mad and said a bunch of choice words about Dean. What isn’t everyone telling me?”

There was silence, until finally Sam sighed. “Ask the kids,” he said finally. “Nothing life-threatening. I mean, Dean could’ve handled – well, anyway. Ask the kids.”

Ember sighed, hanging up the phone after making arrangements to meet up with them in a couple of hours. 

***Castiel POV***

April 1, Night

“So… what’s going on between you and Dean?” asked Ember two hours later. She was driving, and Castiel was riding in the back with Jack. He had spent the first five minutes apologizing, and they had assured him that it was really fine.

Jack thought for a second and said, “He’s angry because of Asian twins.”

“Asian twins, huh?” Ember said, laughing. 

“Yes,” said Jack. “We went to Vegas, and there were Asian twins.”

Ember and Castiel gave each other a significant look.

“I don’t understand why Vegas is so popular,” Jack continued. “Dean didn’t seem to have a good time there.”

“My guess is he enjoyed the Asian twins,” Ember said. It sounded to Castiel as though she was holding back laughter.

“He was very angry when I accidentally said something about them in front of Krissy,” Jack admitted.

Ember thought a moment. “Jack, that explains why Krissy is mad at Dean,” she said finally. “But that kind of thing shouldn’t make her _that _angry. Krissy’s stubborn, but it’s been over a week. And… it also doesn’t explain why you panicked earlier and ended up back at the bunker.”

Jack contemplated his answer, then sighed, looking carefully at Ember. “I… I kissed her.”

Castiel felt the car careen to the side dangerously, but Ember regained control before they plowed into a ravine. 

There was silence for a minute, and then Ember said, “Oh. Well, that explains it then.”

There was another pause, and then Ember asked, “How did Dean find out?”

“He walked in on us,” Jack admitted.

“Oh,” said Ember again.

“Well, that definitely explains it,” said Castiel.

Jack said hurriedly, “But I didn’t know that kissing could lead to sex, and sex could lead to babies, and babies are dangerous for me to have. And that’s how you died, and I’m sorry. Sam says it’s fine, because I was just a baby, and I couldn’t control it, but Dean still blames me for it, I think. And I don’t want Krissy to die, and I had no idea!”

Castiel noticed with alarm that his son’s face was screwed up in determination, as though daring his parents to be angry with him. Despite this, a tear was trailing down his cheek, belying his true feelings about the situation.

Ember pulled over into a parking lot.

“What are you doing?” asked Castiel.

“We’re going to have a long talk, and I can’t do it while driving,” she said. Then she sighed. “I didn’t really think this conversation would come into play for at least another fifteen or twenty years, but there you go.”

Castiel nodded. “I will be honest, the necessity for this conversation never occurred to me when I thought about how I would be as a father. But I think that it’s long overdue.”

It was four hours later before they finally got home.

***Sam POV***

April 2nd, Daytime

Sam answered the phone. He was glad to see Ember’s name on his phone again. He had missed her. Perhaps Dean was right – it was the “win” they had needed.

“Hello,” he said, smiling.

“’Kissing can lead to sex and sex can lead to babies?’” Ember quoted.

Sam groaned. “So I guess the kids told you about the whole kissing debacle?” He wondered how much trouble he was in. He had done his best… he had certainly done better than Dean, anyway.

But Ember was laughing. “Yeah, Jack told me,” she said. “Look, Sam, I wanted to thank you again, for… God, everything. You’ve basically raised him for the past three months, and I know it wasn’t easy. And it sounds like Dean was making it worse…”

Sam sighed. “Don’t be too hard on Dean, Ember,” Sam said. “It’s been really difficult for him, with you gone, and Cas gone, and Mom gone, and… it’s been all I can do to keep him from walking into danger and getting himself killed half the time, much less Jack.”

“I know how Dean can be,” Ember said. “I just wanted you to know that I really, really owe you one.”

“No, you don’t,” said Sam. “Consider it repayment, for convincing me to track down Eileen. She’s…” Sam sighed. “She’s the reason I stay sane, sometimes.”

He had a feeling Ember was smiling into the phone. “I’m so glad, Sam.”

There was a pause. “So, did you… I don’t know, have ‘the talk?’” Sam asked finally.

“Yeah, we got it figured out,” said Ember. “I sat both of them down individually. I explained to Krissy where Dean was coming from. She’s not going to apologize, of course – it _is _Krissy, after all – but she’s promised to stop making snide comments and ignoring him. And I told Jack that avoiding getting into a relationship with her didn’t necessarily mean running out of the room every time he sees her.”

Sam smiled. “Good,” he said. “It’s been a bit awkward and over-the-top this past week.”

“I probably will send Jack to the bunker sometimes, though,” added Ember. “Just so it’ll be easier for both of them. And… because he really seems to have a lot of respect for you, Sam. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“Good,” Sam said. He only now realized how much he had been afraid of losing the boy, now that Ember and Castiel were back in the picture. Dean had Krissy, who had become like a surrogate daughter to him during the time him and Ember had been together. But Jack had become almost like _his _son. 

Honestly, he liked it more than he thought he would. He had always assumed Eileen didn’t want children, but perhaps they should discuss it. 

***Castiel POV***

April 4th, Late Night

Castiel and Ember had been home less than a week, but already they were slipping into a pattern. Each morning Castiel would make breakfast for whoever happened to be at home. Then Krissy would leave for school, and Ember would go about the business of picking up the vestiges of the life she had led before she had become pregnant with Jack. This often meant a lot of bookwork and work on computer doing things like “social security” and “scouring the internet for possible clients.” Castiel didn’t understand what it all meant, but he liked to hear about it.

Evenings were usually spent as a family. Occasionally Jack became involved in a movie or researching on his own, and on these occasions Castiel and Ember would ward the door to stifle sounds and engage in a short round of amorous activities.

At night, Jack slept for about 4 hours, and Castiel didn’t sleep at all. He often spent the nights wandering the house searching for signs of possible danger while the others slept, or engaged in his own private research. 

Castiel was happier than he had ever dreamed he could be. It was paradise. He quickly decided that (aside from the occasional amorous activities in the evening,) his favorite moments of the day were spent teaching his son. Jack had a lot to learn, and much of it needed to be taught to him by an angel.

Castiel started by asking Jack to relate everything that had happened to him so far. It wasn’t long before Jack started asking questions.

“And then there were these angels and they tried to kill me,” he finished. “But… I thought angels were good?”

“Well, in Heaven, ‘good’ is a relative term,” Castiel said wisely.

“What's it like? Heaven?” Jack asked.

“Well, that depends.”

“But it's nice?”

“It can be,” Castiel said. “But it can be very difficult as well. You’re a nephilim, Jack, which means you’re half angel. And you’re part demon on your mother’s side… it’s never happened before! And, a lot of the other angels don’t approve.”

“But why?”

“Because you’ll be very strong, Jack,” Castiel said. “I’m very strong, and you’ll be twice as strong as me. And your mother is strong, too. And if you were to go _bad_, with all that power, it could be catastrophic. That’s very scary.”

Castiel sighed. “Jack, I… I should’ve been there when you were born. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through so much without me. You need an angel to guide you, to explain all of these things to you. More importantly, you need a father.”

Jack looked at Castiel contemplatively. “It’s okay,” he said. Then he added, “I understand why Mom trusted you. Why Dean and Sam trusted you… and why I trusted you.”

“You remember that?” Castiel asked.

“I remember feeling… safe,” Jack confessed.

“Jack, your mother and I believe that you will do amazing things,” Castiel said. “She always said that you would change the world for the better. And now, looking at you, talking to you, I know that she was right, that we were right. We’re so proud of you.”

Jack smiled, a large smile. Over Jack’s shoulder, Castiel saw Ember, tears of happiness shining in her eyes.

***Ember POV***

June 15

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

The following two months were quite possibly the best months of Ember’s life. Though she worked part time, Jack, and her other children, were her primary priority. Castiel seemed to have the same idea, and the small, blended family spent the following two months in domestic bliss.

Jack spent some weekends at the bunker – typically the ones that Krissy spent at home. Krissy occasionally accompanied Dean or Sam hunting, and always came back in a good mood, to Ember’s annoyance. By the end of the May, Jack had somewhat better control of his powers, and almost complete control of his flight, though only over short distances. Castiel and Ember could not have been more proud, and they told Jack so on a regular basis.

June 15th was a Friday, and a rarity. Castiel and Ember had the weekend to themselves. Krissy was attending a last-minute end-of-term vacation with her friends, and Jack had already made plans to go to the bunker.

Castiel and Ember stayed up most of the night having sex, and they had just started up again when the phone rang at 2AM Saturday morning. 

“Ignore it,” Castiel said huskily, kissing a trail across her collar bone.

“Sam’s ringtone,” Ember said, clumsily disentangling herself and reaching for her phone. “’Plus it’s 2AM. Probably about Jack.”

“Hi,” said Sam when Ember picked up the phone. “Look, we ended up on a case in Dodge, Kansas.”

“D’ya need me to pick Jack up?” Ember asked, attempting to keep her voice calm as Castiel had resumed his ministrations.

“No, he’s with us,” Jack said.

“_What?”_ Ember exclaimed. “Sam, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I thought at first that it might be nothing,” Sam said. “It wasn’t much to go on…”

Sam was usually more responsible than this, but she owed him everything at the moment. “Sam, that’s… you still should have…” she started gently.

“I would’ve,” Sam said apologetically. “I just… Dean’s all geeking out because it’s a town full of cowboy memorabilia… that’s how we ended up here in the first place, actually. And…” he lowered his voice. “I know you and Cas have been really busy with the kids, and that house isn’t very big…”

“Quiet, but not quiet enough, Sammy!” Ember heard Dean yell on the other end.

“I thought you were in the shower!” Sam shouted at him.

“’Heard my name!” Ember heard Dean yell back.

Sam sighed. “Anyway, it turns out that it’s a case after all. Everyone’s fine, just… there was more here than we thought there was.”

“We’re on our way,” Ember said.

“You really don’t have to-…”

Ember sighed, pulling away from Castiel. “Sam, between you and I, as much as I’d like to keep Jack away from hunting, he’s half-angel and half-demon. I’m never going to be able to keep him out of the life, at least to some degree. I’m rusty myself… I’m out of practice. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It was a ghoul. The ghoul had taken the form of Dave Mather, a legendary gunfighter. They traced him to a bank, which he was attempting to rob.

It all happened in slow motion. Ember hadn’t even been back hunting for more than a day. Jack knew she could stop bullets. He knew nobody was ever in any real danger… but he just wanted to prove himself.

And then, with a blast of Jack’s powers, the bank’s security guard was dead, and the Dave Mather ghoul was in the wind. Dean chased after the ghoul with his sawed-off, but Castiel, Sam, and Ember all ran to Jack’s side as blood blossomed under the guard’s head.

“Cas, I-I didn't mean to,” Jack said, horrified. “Castiel, you have to heal him!”

But the guard had already been reaped, and was already in Heaven.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Jack, please talk to us,” said Ember. They were on the way back to the bunker, which was closer. They had needed to get Jack out of town before the cops began to investigate. Dean and Sam had remained behind to deal with the Dave Mather ghoul.

“Jack, I've killed people who didn't deserve it,” said Castiel. “My friends– I've killed people I loved. I wish I could tell you that it– that it gets easier, that with time, it hurts less, but that would be a lie because it– it never gets easier. And those moments, they never stop hurting. But that doesn't mean that you should stop fighting. Doesn't mean that just because you made a mistake – and that's what this is, Jack. It's a mistake. That doesn't mean that you can't– can't be better, do better. I believe that. I have to believe that.”

“And we still believe in you, Jack,” Ember added. “This was an accident. Everyone-…”

“Stop,” Jack said firmly. “Just… Please stop.”

The rest of the ride was completed in silence.

***Castiel POV***

June 16

It had been a horrible night. Ember had eventually gone to sleep wrapped around Castiel. Jack had refused to talk to any of them.

Finally, Sam and Dean returned.

“How’d it go?” asked Ember, yawning.

“Usual,” said Dean. “Killed the bad guy, saved the girl.”

“What about, uh…” Castiel let his eyes travel toward Jack.

“Took care of it,” said Sam.

“Good,” Ember nodded.

“Good?” Jack exclaimed suddenly, shocking all four of them. “How is that good? I killed someone. What was his name? The guard? Did he have a family?”

Castiel shot Ember a significant look, which she returned. “Jack, don't do this to yourself,” he said.

“No, did he?” asked Jack.

“Yes, he did,” said Dean, and Castiel saw Ember glare daggers at him.

“Jack, look, this life, what we do, it's… it's not easy,” said Sam. “And we've all done things we regret.”

“Just don't. You're afraid of me,” Jack said, and Castiel could see the power rippling behind his eyes and in his posture.

“Jack, no,” Castiel protested. He remembered what it felt like to feel guilty over the deaths of others who were innocent. He couldn’t imagine feeling this after only a few months of living.

“No, maybe you're right,” said Jack. “Maybe I'm just another monster.”

“No!” Ember protested. “Jack, you’re my son, you’re -…”

“No, you're not,” said Dean, and his voice drowned out Ember’s. “I thought you were. I did. But… Like Sam said, we've all done bad. We all have blood on our hands. So if you're a monster, we're all monsters.” Ember shot him a look of relief.

“No, you don't,” Jack protested. “Every time I try and do something good, people get hurt. I thought I was getting better. I'm not… I don't know what I am, but I know I can't make the world a better place, not like this. I can't even do one good thing. And I know that if I stay, I'm gonna hurt you. All of you. And… I can't. You're all I have.”

“Jack, please,” Ember said, running over to him, but he shrugged out of her arms.

“Jack, listen,” protested Sam.

“I have to go,” said Jack.

“No, Jack,” Castiel said desperately.

“I'm sorry,” Jack said, and with a blast of power Castiel felt himself knocked backward. He saw that Dean, Sam, and Ember had been knocked backward as well.

Ember recovered first, out of desperation, perhaps. “Jack!” she yelled desperately.

“I'm so sorry,” Jack said again softly, and he disappeared.

“Jack!” yelled Castiel, but he knew it was no good. He was gone.

***Ember POV***

October 22

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

Summer turned slowly to fall, and there was no sign of Jack.

Ember was heart-broken and desperate, and no amount of time having gone by changed this. Jack was her _son_, and not a day went by where she didn’t think of him constantly.

By the end of July, Ember had once again built up a decently-sized business doing therapy with survivors of supernatural events. Not only was it a way to pay the bills, but it was also a way to keep an eye on the larger supernatural world. When she was doing therapy, she didn’t think of Jack constantly… staying busy was definitely a necessity.

Castiel spent his days poring through Enochian scripts and torturing demons. Still, there was no news. He attempted to reassure Ember as often as possible. “No news is good news,” he always said. “We taught him well.”

Finally, near the end of October, Castiel managed to reach an old angel contact. “I must make a trip to Heaven,” he said. “One of my old friends has finally agreed to meet with me.”

Ember sighed. “Cas, I don’t like this,” she said, pulling him close in their bed. “I can’t lose you, too.”

He hugged her back, tracing a line down her shoulder with his finger. His lack of reassurance told Ember that this trip was every bit as dangerous as she imagined. “I have no choice,” Castiel said. “Not anymore. It’s been months. We need-…”

“I know,” Ember said, a tear slipping down her face. “I know, Cas.”

***Castiel POV***

October 23

It had been awhile since Castiel had been near the entrance to Heaven, which was still kept in the sandbox. Still, even now, he could feel Heaven’s warmth, a feeling of being home at last. He adjusted the small recording device attached to his neckline. Ember had insisted upon it, and Charlie had been kind enough to provide it.

Finally, an angel met him at the entrance to Heaven. “Dumah,” he said, nodding. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. This is a matter of great urgency. It's imperative that I locate my son.”

“You mean the nephilim,” clarified his old friend.

“Yes,” Castiel said. “Do the angels have him?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Castiel said desperately. You're certain that he's not maybe sitting in– in Metatron's old cell or– …”

“If we had him, he wouldn't be imprisoned. He would be put to work.”

Castiel backtracked. “What do you mean?”

“Castiel, the angels... Our numbers were greatly diminished after the Fall. No one's made new angels since the dawn of creation. We're going extinct. You would need a powerful force to make more of us.”

Castiel bristled. “You mean Jack. Even if he had that power, what makes you think he'd cooperate?”

“He may not have a choice,” Dumah said severely.

“So you're planning to enslave him for some kind of experiment?” Castiel accused.

“Castiel, he's not your pet. He belongs to all of us.”

“He’s my son!” Castiel screamed at her.

Two other angels had appeared suddenly next to Dumah. “You did well, Dumah. You delivered him as promised.” 

One of the angels, Cydiel, turned toward Castiel. “We hear you have influence with the nephilim. He'll listen to you.”

“No,” said Castiel, seething with anger. “I will not help you.” He thought of the microphone, still attached to his neckline, and wondered when Ember would jump in to help him. Thankfully she didn’t have the teleportation powers she used to, or she would have arrived already. Still, he knew she was only about a block away.

“Ever the renegade,” said the first angel.

“Castiel, please, come with us,” said Dumah, grasping him by the wrist. He resisted, pushing her away, and all four angels began to fight. Castiel was stronger and faster than all three of the angels, but it was a three-on-one fight. His angel blade sliced through the air, but then he felt another angel blade at his throat, and the fight was over.

“Drop the blade, Dumah!” rang out a voice suddenly.

Lucifer had come out from the trees, his eyes blazing and staring at Dumah. “You hesitate?” he snapped. “This isn't gonna one of those ‘make my day’ moments, is it? Okay. Buh-bye.” His eyes began to glow red, and the angel blade at Castiel’s throat suddenly disappeared, along with its owner.

Lucifer leaned back against a bench, coughing and wheezing. 

Castiel braved a glance over his shoulder and realized that all three of his angel enemies were gone. Then he turned back to Lucifer. “What are you doing back in this world?” 

“What are you doing alive?” Lucifer retorted.

“It's complicated,” Castiel snapped.

“Same here,” said Lucifer. “Obviously, getting here took its toll.”

“You're weak,” Castiel accused fiercely, advancing on Lucifer.

“Yeah, I'm clearly not myself,” said Lucifer. “But, oh, cowboy, I'm not that weak. And you and I need to talk.”

“I have no interest in talking to you,” snapped Castiel.

“Neither do I,” said Ember, appearing suddenly from behind the trees. A ring of holy oil sprang up around Lucifer. Castiel could only guess that Ember had put the ring there using her force powers while Lucifer was distracted.

“Damn it!” said Lucifer. “I should’ve known.”

Ember pulled out handcuffs warded for angels and clicked them around Lucifer’s wrist.

“They won’t hold him for long, Cas,” she whispered.

“Yes, they will,” said Castiel, stepping closer to investigate Lucifer. “His grace has been weakened. Here, look. Can you douse it?”

Ember shot Castiel a skeptical look, but obediently put out the fire caused by the holy oil. Her hand didn’t leave the cuffs around Lucifer’s wrists. 

Castiel walked up and put his hand on his older brother, feeling his grace. 

Lucifer jerked away from his touch. “Get off me, you maniac!” He struggled against the cuffs, but he couldn’t move.

“What happened to your grace?” Castiel asked, adding his steadying hand to Lucifer’s cuffs and pulling him toward his truck.

“Ouch!” snapped Lucifer. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you!”

“Great, tell us in the car,” snapped Ember.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Lucifer explained that he had met the archangel Michael in the other world. Michael (from Apocalypse World) had been determined to get to their world. He had used quite a bit of Lucifer’s archangel grace to create a rift. If Lucifer was telling the truth, he had fought off several angels to jump through the rift first. He had gotten lucky and the rift had closed behind him.

Castiel doubted he was telling the truth. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see Lucifer’s angle. If he was going to lie, why not make up a different one? In fact, why save him at all?

En route to the bunker, they stopped at a bar so that Ember could grab food. “Everything I am telling you is true,” Lucifer insisted. “You were there, man. You saw what that place was like. The Michael I just described to you is responsible for that.”

Castiel looked at him wearily, and Ember simply glared at him.

“What? What? What? What?” Lucifer asked. “Will you– will you do me a favor and stop looking at me like I’m the enemy?”

“You are the enemy,” Ember said, her hand still on Lucifer’s cuffs under the table.

“You'll forgive me if I'm a little on edge,” snapped Castiel. “The last time we were together, you killed me.”

“Well, last time we were together, you stabbed me,” Lucifer shot back.

Castiel rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he snapped sarcastically.

“You wanna dwell on the past?” Lucifer asked. “I don't.” He held up his cuffed hands. “I'm not myself anyway. What am I gonna do? Okay? Look, it's time to save the world.”

Ember sighed, pulling the cuffs tighter. “Okay, Lucifer, Lord of Lies,” she said sarcastically. “How do Castiel and I save the world, _according to you?”_

“Me, the two of you, and your son,” Lucifer corrected. “I think the combined power of the four of us can drive Michael back. I'm telling you, this guy is not the same Michael that we knew. He's much more powerful.”

Castiel looked at Ember, and he saw, reflected back at him, the same trace of worry that Lucifer was (for once) telling the truth. “Okay, if this Michael come–…”

“Not if,” said Lucifer. “_When._ The guy's on a mission.”

“Well, you would seem to be the weak link on this team,” Castiel said.

“Yeah, and you’re going back into the cage,” Ember snapped.

“Really?” Lucifer asked her, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his face. “But your powers are so much stronger when I’m around. They’ve increased in the last hour since I got back, haven’t they?”

Castiel looked at Ember in surprise, but realized he should have known this. Her powers were directly related to Lucifer’s – that had been proven eight years ago during the first Apocalypse. It was less noticeable after her two Demon Bonds had boosted her supernatural powers (not to mention being pregnant with Jack). When she had come back from the Empty, however, these powers had reduced once again to their baseline, minimal form. For the past few months, she had been able to move objects only (and small animals).

Castiel realized that Ember would have known immediately about Lucifer’s return from the sudden boost in her own powers. One look at Ember’s face and Castiel knew he had guessed correctly.

“We can’t beat Michael without me, and especially not without the increase I cause in your demon powers,” Lucifer said. “It’ll never work. Right now, you need me, I need you, and we both need your son.”

Suddenly, thunder and lightning flashed. Several demons had entered the bar, and one of them – their leader – was Asmodeus. Castiel readied his angel blade, and Ember did the same.

“Hey, man,” said Lucifer in recognition.

“Lord Lucifer”, said Asmodeus.

“Lil' Asmodeus,” taunted Lucifer. “My onetime stooge. Runt of the litter. Uh, dimmest bulb in the string, et cetera, et cetera. I see you must've taken over Crowley's spot? Yeah. That's okay. You can stand down now. Skipper's back.” Lucifer pounded his fist on the bar. 

“Well, here's the thing, Lou,” said Asmodeus. “I'm real satisfied with my current position. Hell is humming along quite nicely, thank you. But I do hope you and your little lap angel will pay me a visit.”

“Yes, well... see, that's the thing. We're all booked up, buddy,” said Lucifer.

“Oh, I won't take ‘no’ for an answer,” said Asmodeus in his southern drawl.

“Now you know better than to screw with me, Asmodeus,” Lucifer said dangerously.

“Oh, I knew better than to screw with the old you,” said Asmodeus. “But this new version seems a little more... screwable.”

Lucifer shrugged, inflating his chest, his eyes glowing red. “So help me,” he whispered, and Castiel looked at Ember with trepidation.

“Aw, please,” said Asmodeus. He held up two fingers and flicked them, knocking Lucifer, Castiel, and Ember across the bar.

“Ember!” Castiel screamed, running toward her. There was blood coming from her head, and she appeared to be unconscious.

He had just laid a hand on her when Asmodeus yelled “Nope!” and snapped his fingers in Castiel’s direction.


	65. Interlude in Hell

***Ember POV***

October 23

Ember woke up in a jail cell in Hell. The floors were stone cement, and dirty, and there were bugs. She was hungry, and there was dried blood matted in her hair.

Castiel was there with her, and for that she couldn’t have been more thankful. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Fine,” he said, blue eyes piercing into her brown ones. “You? You have a mild concussion, but it’ll heal in a few days.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I need a shower, though. And food.”

Castiel laughed, smiling only slightly. Then his eyes drifted upward. “Guess who our neighbor is in this cell?”

***Ember POV***

October 29

“I am _so_ bored,” Lucifer complained for what must’ve been the ten millionth time.

“_You’re_ bored?” Ember shot back at him. “Imagine having to hang out here in a cell next to you!” She was reclined across Castiel’s lap, tapping her fingers incessantly against the cement floor.

To be honest, being imprisoned could’ve been worse. For the first day and a half, she had been denied food, showering amenities, and the ability to use a bathroom.

This hadn’t lasted long. While the demons were able to imprison Castiel and Lucifer in a way that quelled their magic, Ember’s half-demon magic was more difficult to ward. Asmodeus hadn’t been prepared for this. His wards silenced the better part of her demon magic, but she still had enough left over to make objects zoom through the air. She’d almost escaped three separate times, and Asmodeus had been forced to double his guards and install keypads to their cells with combinations that only he and a few choice demons were privy to. At this point Asmodeus had separated Ember from Castiel, which had unfortunately only served to make her angrier and more determined. 

In the end, after the first three days, Ember and her demon guards had come to a workable arrangement. Ember would be allowed to reside in the cell with Castiel, have regular bathroom breaks, and would be given two meals daily as well as one opportunity to shower, (or at least stand under a hose and rinse off). In return, Ember would be a “good prisoner” and stop attempting to escape, stop getting them in trouble with Asmodeus, and, most importantly, stop using her powers to slingshot her bodily fluids at them.

Unfortunately, since this unspoken truce had been reached, jail life had gotten increasingly boring. 

During the nights, (or what Ember’s biological clock imagined to be nighttime, since there were no windows) Ember retreated with Castiel into a dream. As this magic was contained in his mind, it wasn’t something that the wards restricted. If he touched her head, they could enter into a dreamworld and remain there until Ember’s body no longer felt the need for sleep and insisted upon awakening.

“So what’d you dream about last night?” Lucifer asked curiously.

“It was a good dream,” said Ember sarcastically. “We repeatedly stabbed you with an angel blade until you exploded.”

“Did you know she was this violent, Castiel?” Lucifer said, turning to the younger angel. “I think you might want to watch out for that. It might hurt your relationship.”

“The only thing hurting our relationship is the incessant chatter from next door,” Ember said, rolling her eyes.

“Why do you continue to engage with him?” Castiel asked her in a low voice, his breath ghosting across her ear.

“Because I’m _bored_,” she whispered back. “And there’s nothing else to do.”

“Hah! Told you!” said Lucifer, as though this were a triumph.

***Castiel POV***

October 31

_ They were on a beach, dancing. Ember wore a flowing red dress, and the sun could be seen peaking out over a large body of peaceful water. The sky was full of reds and yellows and pinks, and the twilight gave off an air of romance. A song played out of a small radio, and there was no one else in sight._

_ “C’mon, Castiel,” Ember said. “Teach me how to dance.”_

_ “I don’t know how to dance.”_

_ “Yes you do,” Ember reminded him. “Metatron uploaded all of popular culture into your brain. You even _told_ me once that you knew how to dance.”_

“Will you help me hide a booodddyyy?” sang Lucifer. “C’mon, we can’t delayyyyy. No one can see him on the floor. Get him out the door, before he can decayyyyyy!”

Castiel wished he could tune out Lucifer entirely, but he was unfortunately unable to give himself over to sleep the way Ember was. He could join her in her mind and help shape the reality there, but he couldn’t leave this reality entirely.

_“Okay, I know how to dance,” Castiel admitted. “But I’ve never done it before.”_

_ “You can start by taking off the trench coat. We’re on a beach, after all. Didn’t we have this discussion in Miami?”_

_ “But you’re wearing a dress,” Castiel complained._

_ “Good point,” Ember said with a grin. As Castiel watched, Ember’s dress became shorter and more revealing. “There,” she said. “Now, for you…” A second later, Castiel was barefoot, wearing pants and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up._

_ “You’re getting better at this,” Castiel said, taking more than a moment to appreciate the revealing dress._

_ “One of the many perks about being imprisoned with an angel,” said Ember smiling._

“Do you wanna hide a bodyyyyy?” Lucifer intoned. “This one’s been knocked out since last falllll. I think his company is overdue-…”

“Shut _up!” _yelled one of the demon guards. “You’ve been singing that damn song all night!” He was a newer guard, and Castiel thought he had heard him called Blythe. He had a bottle of alcohol in his hand.

“It’s my nightly routine, Fat Drunk Guard,” said Lucifer. “Get used to it. By the way, where are all your pea-brained little friends? Wait, wait, let me guess. You all drew straws to see who would be left to guard Satan, and you drew the big straw, ‘cause you’re the biggest.”

“Halloween,” Blythe answered gruffly, swigging from his bottle of alcohol. “All hands on deck topside. Sleeping bitch hasn’t caused trouble in awhile, ‘Job was _supposed_ to be easy, so you’d better not cause trouble.”

“Oh, no, I won’t cause _any_ trouble,” Lucifer said with a mischievous grin. “Do you want to hide a bodyyyyyy?”

_ Castiel held Ember close as they danced on the beach. The sun had set fully now, and moonlight was shining on the water. She smelled like demon and oranges and something ethereal. Castiel wondered briefly if her smell was correct because smell was transferred over to the dreamworld or because his mind had made it so. He was inclined to believe the latter, but in the end it didn’t matter. _

“I’ve killed mother and father. Now it’s just you and me. What are you gonna doooooo?” Lucifer was singing. “Won’t you help me hide their-…”

“’Last time I ever take an easy job!” Blythe spat. He looked at his now-empty bottle, then threw it on the ground where it shattered, coating the floor with glass. “Shut _up!”_

“Do you wanna hide Blythe’s bodyyyyyy?” Lucifer sang, grinning. “He’s too stupid to surviveeeeeee!”

_ Her hips swayed with the music, and her head fit perfectly underneath his chin. Dancing wasn’t so bad, really, and he could feel the sand between his toes, his Father’s creation. She disentangled herself from him suddenly, but only to then back up against him, winding his arms around her waist as she swayed to the music._

“Do you wanna hide a-….”

“Don’t make me come in there,” said Blythe dangerously.

Castiel looked at Blythe properly, his interest peaked for the first time in hours. 

“You can’t get into this cell,” Lucifer taunted. “There’s no way Asmodeus left _you _with the combination. I mean, Asmodeus is stupid, but you’re like, bump-on-a-log dumb.”

“Besides,” he went on, his face suddenly amused. “What are you going to do to me? Torture me? You wouldn’t dare, you’re too scared.”

“Scared of what?” Blythe said with a snarl. “You’re powerless, Satan.”

Lucifer sent Blythe a dangerous grin. “Wanna test that theory?”

“I’m serious,” said Blythe threateningly, attempting to make himself look bigger than he was. “Keep it up and I swear to Lucifer I’ll-…”

“I _am_ Lucifer,” Lucifer reminded him, grinning a wide grin. He took a long breath, then began to sing. “DO YOU WANT TO HIDE A BODYYYYYY? IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE IN ONE PIECEEEE!”

_“Ember, wake up,” Castiel whispered. “Something’s going on.”_

Ember stirred in his arms, just as Blythe pressed a string of numbers into the keypad, mumbling furiously. 

“D’ya know what I caught Asmodeus doing one night?” Blythe asked, charging into Lucifer’s cell. Lucifer tried to move past him, but the demon was too strong. A second later, Blythe had him by the throat.

“I saw him takin grace from an angel,” Blythe said.

Lucifer’s eyes widened, and Castiel and Ember shot each other shocked looks.

Blythe hadn’t noticed. “Wonder if we could do the same to- AAAAHHHHHH!” Lucifer had picked up a long, sharp shard from Blythe’s broken liquor bottle and sliced Blythe’s throat. Since he was a demon it didn’t kill him, but he backed up far enough for Lucifer to escape from the cell.

Castiel tried to shout a warning, but Ember solved the problem first. With an almighty gust of her powers, she shut the cell door with a loud _CLANG!_, right in front of Lucifer. The latch clicked back into place, effectively once again trapping Lucifer in the cell next to theirs.

Lucifer turned toward Ember, fury in his eyes. He ran forward toward her in his own cell, causing her to reel backward so quickly that she bumped into Castiel. They both toppled over, landing on their butts in a very undignified position.

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” Lucifer shouted angrily, attempting to shake the bars. The warding flashed, and he hopped back as if burned.

Then Lucifer appeared to collect himself, though the anger hadn’t left his eyes. “In… and… out,” he said, taking deep breaths. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Ember, but he smiled as he said, “Sorry, I just… let my anger get away from me sometimes.”

Lucifer circled around the cell again, and Castiel held onto Ember. She was glaring at Lucifer, but her hand was trembling, and Castiel knew she was thinking about the days she had spent as a demon in his company. Even safely imprisoned in a properly warded cell, his anger was terrible to behold.

Finally, Lucifer stopped pacing, facing them in his cell. He shook his head. “You know,” he said to Ember. “I often wonder… what would your father say?”

***Ember POV***

October 31

Ember felt like she had been hit by a semi. Her heartbeat began to quicken, and she tightened her hold on Castiel’s hand. It was best to play ignorant, perhaps. “Bobby would say the same thing he always said,” she persisted as she glared at Lucifer. “That we’ve gotta do whatever we can to keep you in the cage.”

“Not talkin’ about Bobby,” Lucifer said, resuming his pacing of the cell. “I’m talking about your _real_ father.”

“Lucifer, please,” said Castiel suddenly.

Castiel’s voice was pleading and panicked, and Ember whirled around to face him. She felt hurt, suddenly, and betrayed. “You know who my father is?” she asked accusingly.

“No!” Castiel said quickly, shaking his head.

“But he suspects,” Lucifer intoned. “Don’t you, Castiel? You must’ve guessed, especially after you saw how strong she was, and how much _my _power affects her.”

Ember glared at Castiel, and he looked downward in shame. Ember felt as if the walls were closing in around her. What did this mean? Was _Lucifer_ her father? She thought that this couldn’t be right, but she couldn’t seem to make her brain work well enough to string thoughts together correctly.

“I didn’t _really _know until we were _together_,” Lucifer intoned, his red eyes burning into hers. “No thanks to Castiel,” he added, spitting out Castiel’s name like a curse. “Though I suspected, as well. For my power level to directly affect yours, you’d need to be a direct descendant of one of the first demons converted.” He smiled. “Like Meg, for example. Your sister.”

The world was truly caving in. There was a black circle surrounding Ember, a circle of anger and grief. She was spiraling, and she couldn’t see the end. She felt, rather than heard, herself choke out the word, “Azazel.”

“No,” Castiel said with a whisper. “_No_.”

“That’s right,” Lucifer said on a grin. He shook his head. “What will your friends the Winchesters say now? What will _Mary_ say?”

But Ember hadn’t needed Lucifer’s taunting to feel the despair, the agonizing, clawing blackness that was threatening its way up her throat.

She had felt despair before, of course, both times when she had awakened from the Demon Blood Bonds. But this was different. This time despair was mixed with horror as she felt everything she had ever known, ever hoped for, shatter into a million pieces. Azazel was responsible for everything – for the death of Dean and Sam’s mother, the torment of their father, and the quest for vengeance that had caused the Winchesters to become hunters in the first place. He was also responsible for the plot that had ended in Lucifer’s rising from the cage, and for Dean’s parents’ death. 

And Jack was gone – _gone – _and the brothers would certainly never speak to her again. 

Castiel put a hand on Ember’s shoulder, and she could feel him infiltrating her mind, sending calm thoughts and a picture of the dream on the beach. But she felt only the sting of betrayal, that he had suspected but never told her. How long had he known?

And she was stuck here in prison, and would never see Jack again…

And finally, after years of holding back the worst part of herself – finally, the dam broke.

***Castiel POV***

October 31

It was true, Castiel had suspected. His suspicions had been more recent, however – only since the previous year when they had faced Ramiel had Castiel suspected that Ember might be a direct descendant of one of the Princes of Hell. Until then he hadn’t known that they even existed, aside from Azazel. 

A month ago, in his search for Jack, Castiel had returned to the house where Dagon had taken Ember and kept her in captivity. There, in a safe, Castiel had found a large tome on demon parentage. Since then, he had known that Ember _must _be a descendant of one of the Princes of Hell… but he still hadn’t known which one.

There had been no point in discussing this with Ember. It didn’t change his love for her, and she had never shown the slightest interest in finding out about her demon parentage, not since she had discussed it with Bobby after they had met Jesse eight years before. Plus, he didn’t dare add to her stress, and her grief about Jack.

But now there was no turning back – the secret was out. He could feel, in her mind, the dam breaking. This would be different, he knew, than the Demon Blood Bonds, or even the effects of Famine. During these instances, though her demon side had had control, it was still tempered by her human side. All of those instances were affected by other magic. In the case of Famine, Famine had brought out only that which she was hungry for, and the demonic powers necessary to feed the hunger. In the case of the Demon Blood Bonds, the Blood Bonds had drawn out and reflected powers equal to that of the Bond’s subject at the time (Dean, and later Castiel). This was different – this was Ember’s _real_ power, which, he had guessed for some time, was much greater.

In desperation, Castiel groped for a tether in her mind, but he could feel her slipping away, and he could feel the moment when she broke completely.

Her eyes turned yellow. 

In horror, Castiel backed up against the other side of the cell, but she paid him no mind. She flicked one finger toward the door to their cell, and it shot open so powerfully that it almost fell off the hinges. Then she exited the cage, slowly, a serene smile on her face. Castiel filed out after her.

“Wait!” Lucifer yelled. “What about me?”

She glared at him, and continued on down the hallway. She walked with a sort of poise and elegance that Castiel didn’t recognize, as though she was possessed. The guard called Blythe ran away from her down the hallway, but she snapped her fingers.

_POOF! _Blood erupted across Castiel’s trenchcoat, and he backed up in horror.

There were more. All the way down the hallway Ember walked. There were several prisoners, and a few guards scattered here and there. _Snap! Snap! Snap! _As Castiel watched with horror, Ember descended through the doorway into Hell at the end of the hall, which was warded against angels.

He couldn’t follow her there. She was gone! He ran after her, shouting at the now closed door. “Ember!”

But only a few seconds later, she had appeared once again, covered almost completely in spattered blood. “Ember!” he said again, but she ignored him.

Ember continued down another hall, then another, passing the doorway out of the prison, and Castiel followed. _Snap! Snap! Snap!_ More blood, and Castiel dove out of the way more than a few times. There was one prisoner that did not explode, but simply sagged back against the wall. Castiel could feel that this prisoner was an angel, but he was very weak, too weak even to identify properly while he was in a vessel.

“Ember!” Castiel yelled. “Ember!” 

But Ember paid him no mind, and he couldn’t open the door to ascertain the fate of his brother.

Finally, Ember stopped again outside of Lucifer’s cage, her yellow eyes flashing. As Castiel watched in horror, Ember lifted Lucifer up into the air, apparently knowing instinctively that her usual technique wouldn’t work. 

“Put me down!” Lucifer screamed at her. “Cas, help!” But she paid him no mind.

_CRACK!_ Ember twisted the neck of Lucifer’s vessel, and he slammed down on the floor, apparently unconscious. It wouldn’t be enough to kill him, Castiel knew that… but it was a start.

Then, without warning, Ember’s face seemed to sag. Her feet went out from under her, then, and she fell like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Castiel ran forward to catch her, yanking her upward just before her head hit the floor.

“_Cas!”_ she said into his mind, though her eyes were closed. “_Help! I can’t fight it! I can’t-…”_

“I don’t know what to do,” he said helplessly. 

“_Put me to sleep,” _she commanded. “_Until you find another solution. Put me to sleep…”_

“I can’t!” Castiel said desperately. “Not permanently. My sleep will only work for a short while. You’re mentally exhausted right now, but when you-…”

_ “Cas!” _she yelled into his mind, though her eyes were still closed. _“You’ll figure it out, I trust you… I can’t hold on!”_

Castiel could feel that she was telling the truth. He could see, inside her mind, the demon side that had been finally, truly unlocked. The evil was unending – different from the boost to her superpowers let loose by a Demon Blood Bond, and different from the effects of Famine. This was the monster that was inside her that she had kept caged for so long, and the strength of it was truly terrifying. It was threatening to overwhelm everything in a haze of yellow wrath. Her human side cried out for help, a last plea overwhelmed by a haze of evil.

“I love you,” he said, and he touched his fingers to her forehead and put her in as deep a sleep as he could manage without killing her. Then he picked her up in his arms, and ran with her, as far and as fast as he could.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Hellooooo,” said a very high-pitched Scottish voice over the phone. 

“Rowena,” Castiel said brusquely. “It’s Castiel. I need a favor.”

There was a pause. “Castiel,” she said, sounding surprised. “Haven’t seen you since we stuffed Lucifer back in the box! Heard you were dead.”

“I heard the same about you,” Castiel said, impatient. “But I suppose we’re difficult to kill.”

There was another pause, then Rowena said, “Well, it’s good to hear from you, Castiel, but I’m a bit busy right n-…”

“I’ll come to you,” Castiel said. “I need a sleeping spell. One strong enough to put a demon to sleep for a very long time, but one that can be reversed if necessary.”

A third long pause. “Castiel, that’s… that’s Book of the Damned magic…”

“Can you do it?”

“Well!” she said, as though insulted. “Of course I _can_, but I don’t see why you’d want to put a _demon_ \- …”

“It’s Ember,” Castiel said, looking at his girlfriend in the seat next to him. He was holding her hand so that he could ensure that she was still asleep, however he wanted desperately to let go. He could see her dreams, and they were filled with evil, and torture, and death. A good portion of her wrath was aimed at Lucifer, however she also dreamed about killing all of the angels in Heaven. 

“She went dark side,” Castiel explained. “I put her to sleep, but it won’t last.”

There was a pause. Then Rowena said, “You’ll have to get the Codex from-…”

“Not a problem,” Castiel said.

“And you’ll have to do something for me in return,” Rowena added.

“Anything,” said Castiel.

“Well!” Rowena said again. “I guess we’re in business.”

Next, Castiel called the Winchesters. “I need Nadia’s Codex,” he said, with no preamble.

“Hello to you too, Cas,” snapped Dean.

Castiel explained what had happened with Lucifer, and what had happened with Asmodeus. He told them about Ember going dark side.

“So what, she just… snapped?” Dean said after he’d had a moment to process. “That doesn’t make any sense. After all this time -…”

“It was the stress of losing Jack, I think,” Castiel lied. “And Lucifer was taunting her… you know how he is, and what she’s been through with him…”

There was a pause. “Okay,” Dean said finally, though he sounded skeptical. “Cas, of course we’ll help.”

***Sam POV***

November 1, Early Morning

“Look, I’m really sorry,” said Rowena, “but I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Why?” said Castiel brusquely. 

It had taken over an hour to discuss Rowena’s payment, and it had put all of them in an even worse mood than they already were. She had wanted a page from the _Black Grimoire_, a spellbook of dark magic currently in the Winchester’s possession. Dean had at first refused outright, but even he had given in after Rowena had managed to convince them that she simply wanted to defend herself against Lucifer. Truthfully, they had never _really_ had a choice. In the end, it was a small price to pay for getting Ember back – a much smaller price than any of them had anticipated.

They were in the garage, where Ember sat, asleep, in the passenger seat of Castiel’s truck. Castiel refused to leave Ember’s side. Currently he was pacing around the garage, where he seemed to have developed a pattern: he would walk to one side of the garage, then walk back, put two fingers on Ember to read her mind, grimace, and then repeat the pattern. 

Dean was calm, but Sam guessed that that was only because he was well on his way to being buzzed. He had been drinking non-stop for the past hour, constantly refilling his glass of a strong brand of whiskey. Sam was holding Eileen’s hand in the front seat of the Impala, which was parked next to the truck. Eileen kept giving him looks as though he might explode at any second, and squeezing his hand in reassurance. Rowena stood in the middle of the garage around a rickety table, where she continued to decode the Book of the Damned and add things to a bowl as she went. She was taking her time completing the spell, and it had given Castiel enough time to explain to the brothers about Lucifer’s return from Apocalypse World. It had not improved their mood.

“You’ll need a – a bit of your grace, which I guess isn’t so bad,” said Rowena to Castiel. “But you’ll also need the blood of a Prince of Hell, and I don’t know where-…”

“Got it,” Castiel said.

Sam turned to look at him in surprise. 

“What?” Dean asked. “How?”

Castiel sighed. “Asmodeus was there with us,” Castiel said, but there was an odd look on his face. “I don’t think Ember killed him, but she definitely got some of his blood on her.”

Sam doubted this, and he could see the same skepticism reflected on his brothers’ face. Now wasn’t the time, however. “Okay,” he said finally.

Castiel walked over to Ember, and Sam could have sworn he saw a silver knife glint in his friend’s hand. When he turned around, however, he was holding a piece of Ember’s clothing. “Here,” he said.

“Alright then,” Rowena said, dropping the bit of clothing into the bowl. It sparked, and purple smoke erupted from it.

Rowena took the bowl and walked over to Ember in the passenger seat of the truck, and Sam and Eileen got out of the Impala to get a better view. “This will put her permanently to sleep, until a time when you choose to awaken her. The four of us are the only ones who know the incantation.” She took the contents of the bowl, which looked like a blood-red paste, and smeared them on Ember’s forehead. “_Donec penitus excitavit somnum!”_

Nothing happened. Castiel rushed over to Ember and put two fingers on her forehead. He seemed to sag in relief. “She’s sleeping peacefully,” he said. “Her mind is clear. Thank you, Rowena.”

When Rowena was gone, Castiel made to climb into the drivers’ seat of his truck. “I can’t thank you two enough,” he said. “I’ll start to look for ways to cure her, get her back to normal. Obviously the usual way won’t work, because she’s half-demon, so we’ll have to-…”

“Cas, wait,” said Sam reluctantly.

Castiel turned around, and an arrested look colored his face.

“Castiel, what happened?” asked Sam. “There are too many holes in your story. You know we’d do anything for Ember, but you have to tell us the truth! Ember’s been through… God, _everything._ And I know what Lucifer did, and I know she’s upset about Jack, and I’m sure that _added_ to whatever made her lose control…”

“But she’s too strong for that,” said Dean. “Otherwise she would’ve lost control ages ago.”

Castiel visibly sagged. He looked uncomfortable. He seemed to be wrestling with some sort of monumental decision. “Cas, what’s going on?” said Sam gently.

Castiel sighed. “Sam, it’s…” He stopped, turned around, and walked to Ember’s side of the truck. He stood in front of it, as though to block her from their view. He started again, this time more sure of himself. “I don’t know if I ever told you this. Things got pretty crazy after the Darkness. But you should know… maybe it’ll help. I’ll need your help researching this, too.”

Sam and Dean waited for Castiel to go on. Finally, he said, “This is different from the Demon Blood Bonds. The magic that we know as a Demon Blood Bond was actually something that Lucifer put in place a long time ago. It works for both demons _and_ angels. The literal translation of the spell is, ‘_D__uo amantes magicae magicam si quis invocavit erunt alterum, quam par est gradu__e vero amantes magicis invocatum sic coniunx_.’ Or, ‘_When two lovers have magic and one is invoked, so shall be the magic of its mate, to a level which matches._’ For demons, this is automatic. In the case of angels, the angel needs to desire the Blood Bond, and the lover needs to give permission.” Castiel paused. “The only reason it’s called a ‘_Demon_ Blood Bond’ is that angels would never use such a thing. The purpose was for Lucifer to have an extra method of conversion for demons, assuming that one demon is feeding their lover demon blood. Angels can use it too, though, _if_ they desire, and _if _their lover is at all magical, and _if_ they get permission from the lover. Demons can skip the permission part entirely, which is why it ended up being known as a _Demon _Blood Bond – no angel would do such a thing.”

“Except Lucifer,” Eileen said. 

Castiel nodded.

“That makes sense with Ember’s Blood Bond with Dean,” Sam said, “but not the Blood Bond with you. She never would’ve given Lucifer permission for the Blood Bond, even if she thought he was you.”

But Dean shook his head. “Remember when we summoned her? She told us she had been so mad about-…” Dean winced, visibly – “about _Amara_ that she went straight to Castiel, and she kissed him. Could that be taken as permission?”

Castiel nodded. “Unfortunately, yes,” he said. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean shrugged. “You still haven’t told us why she finally lost it,” he pointed out.

Castiel closed his eyes, looking as though he had a headache. “The Blood Bonds increased her demonic powers, for a time,” Castiel said, “But they weren’t truly _her, _simply an echo of your power level, and of mine. We’ve never known what she is truly capable of, once she let her defenses down.”

He paused again. “Lucifer knew this,” he said, and he stiffened, standing upright again in front of the truck as though to block Ember from their view. “And I told you the truth, that he was taunting her, and I think that losing Jack didn’t help…”

“Cas…” Dean said warningly.

“Lucifer told her who her father is,” Castiel said finally.

There was silence.

“Lucifer lies,” said Dean. “Whatever he says, it was probably bullshit.”

“It wasn’t,” said Castiel. “Dean… her eyes were yellow. It was-…”

“Don’t!” Dean screamed suddenly, holding his hand up. “Just _don’t_, Cas.” He looked at Ember for a second, and anger covered his face. Dean looked for a second as though he would quite like to hit Ember, and Castiel drew himself up to his full height, blocking her. Sam’s heart had taken a nose-dive at Castiel’s words, and he, too, felt as though his world had been turned inside out.

Without warning, Dean picked up an empty whiskey bottle and hurled as hard as he could at the front of the truck, then stalked off.

Castiel looked at Sam warily, as if worried that he might do the same. Sam didn’t know how to feel. Azazel… the reason for _everything_. Azazel had started _everything_, and he was her _father._ But it was _Ember_, his best friend, who had already been through so much…

“Cas, you’re… you’re sure she’s okay?” Sam asked, attempting to keep his voice calm.

“She’s sleeping,” said Castiel curtly, “until such time as we choose to wake her up, if we can find a way to quell the demon side.”

Sam nodded. “Cas, I’m sorry,” he said, “Just… just give us a few days, to… to process,” he said. 

Castiel looked irritated, but nodded. “You know where I’ll be,” he said stiffly. He waited until Sam had backed up, then got into the driver’s seat and drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have waited for SO LONG for this chapter to come out! Well, that's not entirely true. This wasn't always going to happen, but I had a good idea and I went with it, and I'm actually kind of proud of how it turned out. Let me know what you think in reviews! The song Lucifer is singing is "Do You Want to Hide A Body", the Frozen parody. It sounds like something he would sing. You can look it up on Youtube.


	66. The Bad Place

***Dean POV***

November 5, Evening

Dean had never really intended to abandon Castiel, much less Ember, to the fate of whatever spell Rowena had done. It was as Sam had said… he simply needed some time to process the situation.

_Azazel_… and he had almost _married_ her! He had almost _married _Azazel’s _daughter_! “I know what you’re thinking,” Sam said. “But it’s still _Ember._ It’s _always_ been Ember. She never even _met _Azazel.”

“I know, Sammy,” Dean said. “I know.”

Before he could reach out to Ember and Castiel, however, they got a lead on Jack. He had last been seen by the girlfriend of an artist, Derek, whose eyes had been burned out in Bismark, North Dakota.

“Are we gonna call Cas?”

“He’s got a lot going on,” said Dean, shaking his head. “We’ll cover this one.” Truthfully, he was ashamed of how he had left things with the angel, but not yet ready to apologize.

Sam raised his eyebrows reluctantly, but nodded.

***Sam POV***

November 6, Afternoon

As it turned out, Derek the artist was a dreamwalker. He could visit other worlds in his dreams – specifically the Apocalypse world that their mother was trapped in. 

“What the hell is Jack trying to do?” asked Dean. 

Sam wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, he had killed a man in the process. _Again._

“A guy is dead,” Dean said, echoing Sam’s thoughts. “Look, I hate this too, but we've gotta be prepared.”

“To kill him,” Sam said, knowing what Dean meant but not really believing it. “Ember and Castiel’s son. _Really?”_

Dean sighed. “I mean... I actually like the kid. I do. But, we're in worst case scenario land here.”

“Yeah, but, Dean we need more information,” Sam said, looking concerned. “I mean, we need to figure out what Jack wanted, and how dreamwalking even works.”

Fortunately, they had a lead; Derek had been emailing with another, stronger dreamwalker, Kaia Nieves. Sam and Dean had just barely pulled up to the drug rehabilitation facility currently housing Kaia when instead, they found Jack! He had his hand around Kaia’s wrist, and he was saying, “You _will_ help me.”

“Jack!” Sam exclaimed, running forward.

“Sam?” Jack asked, whirling around. He paid for his distraction; Kaia kicked him to the ground, and he let go of her arm in surprise. She then proceeded to punch him in the jaw and then run away. 

“She hit me!” he exclaimed, baffled.

“Yeah, good,” snapped Dean.

“No!” Jack exclaimed. “She's getting away!” 

Sam and Dean grabbed Jack on both sides. “We're not letting you near her until you tell us what’s going on,” said Dean.

“No, I need her!” Jack protested. He was still struggling, but not very hard. Sam knew he could’ve shaken them both off if he’d really wanted. 

“You need her like you needed Derek?” Sam asked. His voice wasn’t accusatory, not yet… it was simply a statement.

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed.

Sam and Dean let go of Jack, exchanging worried glances.

“You don't... I'm– I'm doing this for you!” Jack exclaimed, looking at them with wild eyes.

Dean looked as surprised as Sam felt. “Oh, you killed Derek for us?” he accused.

Now it was Jack’s turn to look surprised. “Derek's dead?”

“Wait, hold on a second,” said Sam, feeling as though he had missed something. “Jack, tell us what happened. Everything.”

“I left to try to get a grip on my powers,” Jack explained. “I wanted to prove to you that I'm good, to do _one good thing_. So I did the thing you wanted the most. I experimented opening doors to other worlds. I could _almost_ do it. I could get right to the edge. But I couldn't see. I could only feel around in the dark. I needed eyes. A seer.”

“A dreamwalker,” Sam said, and his heart filled with affection for the boy.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “So I researched, like you taught me. That's how I found Derek. I didn't know if it would work, but it did. He dreamwalked and I joined him... in the Apocalypse World.”

Sam heard Dean’s intake of breath. “I could see what he saw,” Jack continued. “And I saw… I saw _her_.”

“Her?” Sam asked, his heart picking up speed.

“Your mother,” Jack answered.

Sam exchanged a stunned look with Dean.

“She's alive,” Jack continued.

“What?” Dean asked in shock.

“But she’s in danger,” Jack added.

“W-what does that mean?” Sam asked, his mind swimming. “What– what kind of danger?”

“It's easier if I show you,” Jack said. He held out his fingers to the brothers in invitation. Dean leaned away, but Sam stepped forward. He knew what Jack had intended – Castiel had been in his mind at least once, and he had also seen Castiel read Ember’s mind.

The moment Jack’s fingertips touched Sam’s head, he was transported. He saw the Apocalypse World, as Jack had seen it, through the eyes of the dreamwalker. And there, in a cage, was his mother, groaning in pain and crying for help. She looked much thinner, and helpless, and hopeless-

The dream cut off, and Sam snapped back to reality. Jack’s eyes were hungry for approval, while at the same time concerned. “Mom,” Dean said helplessly.

“I was so close to her,” Jack explained. “I could've touched her. But, Derek wasn't strong enough to hold the connection.”

“Wait!” said Sam, surprised. “You didn't burn him out?”

“No, I stopped!” Jack protested. “Derek, he wasn't strong enough, but he knew someone who was. Kaia, she's the key.”

***Jack POV***

November 6, 6:14 PM

Jack was glad to be back with family. But there was something worrying him.

“You were right,” Dean was saying. “About Mom. You were right. This whole time, we should've been looking for her.”

“Dean, I was just hoping,” came Sam’s slightly higher voice from the front seat of the Impala. “I didn't know. Anyways, it doesn't matter. Now that we do know–…”

“We find her, no matter what it takes,” finished Dean.

“Yep,” Sam agreed.

There was a pause. “Kid, you okay?” asked Dean.

“Jack?” asked Sam.

Jack tried to put his thoughts into words. “You thought... You both thought that I could do that, that I could kill Derek,” he protested, upset.

“Jack, we, um... We didn't know what happened. We figured, m-maybe it was an accident or– or...”

“Like the security guard,” Jack said. He supposed he could understand this, though he didn’t like to think about it.

“Yes,” said Sam. “Exactly. Like that. Jack, we were worried, okay? You know, when you disappeared, you were in a dark place. And we didn't know _where_ you were going.”

Jack thought for a moment. “I was scared,” he admitted. “I was upset. But... I just wanted to do a _good _thing. And then I was going to come back. You, and Dad, and Mom – you're my family.”

“Yes, we are,” agreed Dean. “Finding our Mom, you... You did a good thing, kid. You did a real good thing,” said Dean.

Jack smiled, a feeling of love swelling within him. 

***Dean POV***

November 6, 8:29 PM

Dean had been able think of nothing but his mother since Jack put the vision of her in Apocalypse World into his head the previous afternoon. 

Since then, things hadn’t gotten easier. First, angels had captured Kaia, and Jack, Sam, and Dean had barely managed to rescue her from them. Now, Kaia was refusing to dreamwalk for them. _Complicated._ Things always had to be fucking _complicated._

To make matters worse, Castiel had finally joined the group. Dean knew that Sam had called him after they’d found Jack, but Dean didn’t want to think about the apology he knew he owed his best friend.

“It’s a curse!” Kaia argued with the brothers. “When Derek dreamwalked, he was free. He could go see beautiful things, to worlds that were paradises. I wish it was like that for me, but it's not. I only go to one place– the Bad Place. It's just blood and death and monsters.”

Dean was growing impatient. “Well, it sounds like a lifetime of bad dreams, but–…”

“Bad dreams?” Kaia scoffed. She pulled up her sleeve, revealing several long scars. “When I get hurt over there, I don't wake up sweaty. I wake up bloody. This scar, it's not the only one. I'm sorry about your mom, but I can't help you.”

“All right, fine,” said Sam, resigned. “Um... we can find another way. We, um...”

But Dean had had enough. He felt sorry for the girl – he really did. On an ordinary day, she would’ve been the type of citizen that he and his brother would assist in saving from “The Bad Place.” But today was no ordinary day. He pulled out his gun and cocked it, brandishing it at Kaia. “Get in the car,” he snapped.

“Dean!” exclaimed both Sam and Castiel.

“Get in the car!” he yelled again. “Get in the damn car!” 

Castiel stepped forward and put two fingers on Kaia’s head, forcing her into a deep sleep. He picked her up, and kept one finger placed on her forehead so that he could monitor her dreams.

“_Thank_ you!” Dean exclaimed. “C’mon, let’s go!”

***Castiel POV***

November 6, 11:02 PM

Castiel was, once again, full of emotions. He was proud of his son, and relieved to have him back. He was worried for Ember, whom he had left, still sleeping, back at the house in Conway Springs. He was worried about what would happen when Jack found out about Ember. For now, he wanted Jack to have at least this _one _victory… then they would discuss Ember.

Dean seemed to have the same idea. “Cas… look, man. I’m sorry, for, um… for the thing. I just… I just needed to wrap my head around it. Of course we’ll help, man. As soon as we get back.”

“I know,” Castiel nodded. “And… thank you.”

***Jack POV***

November 7, 2:15 AM

“Where am I?” Kaia said upon awakening.

“We’re at a gas station near Sioux Falls, South Dakota,” Jack told her. “Where the walls between universes are thinnest. We’ll be there in twenty minutes or so. We need your help.”

“I’m sorry about my brother,” Sam added, leaning over him. “If you want to leave, you can. But we _need_ your help.”

It had been decided that Sam and Jack would attempt to convince Kaia to help them, while Castiel and Dean protected them from other angels that might want to attack.

“I'm sorry... about all of this,” Jack added, before Kaia could open her mouth again. He was holding her in place with his powers, but also filling her with a sense of comfort, as his father had taught him. “I was like you, Kaia, afraid of my powers. But it doesn't have to be like that. You said that you wished that things could've been different, and that's why you reached out to Derek. Derek thought that you could help me, and I could help you.”

“Why do you keep saying his name?” Kaia snapped. “Derek's dead because of you.”

“No,” Jack said. “He was killed by the angels that pursue us. _Please. _Five seconds.”

“What?” Kara asked. Jack was no longer holding her in place, but either she had not yet realized this or she had no immediate desire to move.

“Give me five seconds to show you what Derek saw, what I saw with him,” Jack pleaded. “It wasn't just the Bad Place. It was... everything. It's... amazing.”

“We’ll give you anything,” Sam pleaded with her. “Money, a home… amnesty. But most importantly, we can help you. Your dreams can be free of the Bad Place. You didn’t have any bad dreams while you were with us, did you? You slept for just over 5 hours.”

“It’s – wait, I did?” Kaia asked, looking at her watch in stunned silence. “I never sleep that long!” Slowly, she looked at Jack. “Five seconds,” she agreed.

Jack touched his fingers to Kaia’s temple. He showed her visions… of the Apocalypse world, and of the beautiful world of flowers that Derek had shown him. “_I can direct your mind,” _he said into her head. “_Only you can dreamwalk, but I can steer.”_

When he pulled his hand away, Kaia was looking at him with a slight smile on her face.

“Our powers can be good,” he said. “We can do good in this world.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and realized that it was his father.

***Sam POV***

November 7, 2:38 AM

They had been doing _so well!_ They had almost made it to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. This was where the walls between universes were most then, according to Derek. He and Jack had convinced Kaia to help them open a door to Apocalypse World. 

Then, suddenly, a large car had run them off the road. Out of the car piled eight angels, and the group had no choice but to make a run for it. And run they had, into a large and abandoned boat near where the side of the road met the water. They ran up to the top floor of the boat, where the angels trapped them.

“Hey, Dean, maybe if we let 'em in and then we blast them all away,” Sam suggested.

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t know what multiple banishments would do to Jack, and I don’t want to find out.”

“I’ve survived _one_ before,” Jack said. “It stings a little, but it was okay.”

Castiel nodded, looking out the window. “Now’s the time, then. They’ve split up. I can take three of them out with a banishing spell, and you can ward the boat against the other four.”

“Thanks, Cas,” said Dean.

“Love you son,” Castiel said to Jack with a nod, and headed out the door. A second later, there was a wave of bright light, and only four angels remained outside.

That was still four too many. Sam and Dean raced to ward the doors.

“Jack, can you do anything?”

“I can try, but they'll hit me with angel radio again,” he said. He was getting up off the ground, and Sam realized that Castiel’s banishing spell must’ve hurt him more than he’d let on. Sam knew that angel radio always made Jack’s ears hurt as well.

Suddenly, a giant shock wave rocked the boat, and the brothers both struggled to keep their balance.

“Okay, all right, so then we go out guns blazing,” said Dean. “We take out as many as we can. Kid, sorry to drag you into this. This was not your fight.”

There was another large shockwave, and Jack looked panic-stricken. “If they get up here, they'll kill you all and take me. All four of these are stronger, warrior angels. Dad taught me how to tell.”

“Wait, Jack!” said Kaia. “You said I could help you find the door to another world, right?”

“Yes,” said Jack.

“Then let's do it!” said Kaia. “Let's get out of here.”

“Can you take us to our mom?” asked Sam.

There was another shake, and this one almost sent Kaia careening into Jack.

“I don't know,” Jack said. “I think so.”

“What if something goes wrong?” Sam asked.

Another loud shake.

“Something already is going wrong!” Dean said wild-eyed. “Jack, do it!”

Kaia sat down, and Jack stood behind her, ready for her to dreamwalk. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“No,” said Kaia. “Let's go.”

Jack placed his fingertips on Kaia's temples and his eyes began to glow. 

“Okay, I'm there,” Kaia said. “I'm in the Bad Place.”

“Let go,” Jack instructed.

“I can't!” she protested, her face wrinkling in panic.

“Yes,” Jack said. “You can.”

Sam turned instead to the warding on the doors, and realized with alarm that it was slowly crumbling from the giant shockwaves.

“Jack, now!” screamed Dean.

The room shook again. “I see her,” said Jack.

“No!” Jack gasped suddenly. “Focus!”

There were more shockwaves. Dean and Sam both held their angel blades at the ready. Any minute now the angels would burst through the door…

“I'm losing it!” Kaia screamed.

“Almost. Almost!” screamed Jack.

Suddenly, Sam felt a tug on his belly, and everything around him began to glow. He could hear screaming…

The next thing he knew, he was in a dark forest, full of greens and blacks.

This was definitely not Earth, nor was it Apocalypse World.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an amazing episode, but I felt like they could've come up with a better excuse for not banishing the angels on that boat. Sam suggested this and Dean said, "No, if they get in here, we're dead." Which literally meant, "We can't think up a better excuse for not using a banishing sigil." So I thought of one instead.


	67. Wayward Sisters

***Jo Harvelle POV***

November 8, Noon

Claire was inexperienced, but she was fun to hunt with. She was younger than Jo by just over a decade, but she reminded Jo of herself at that age; eager to prove herself, tough as nails, with a slight tendency to look before she leapt. 

They had hooked up on a particularly nasty ghost case in September, and they’d been hunting together ever since. Jo outwardly kidded Claire that she wouldn’t have made it this far without her (which was true), and Jody Mills seemed more comfortable with Claire hunting if Jo was with her. At the same time, Jo had admitted to herself that Claire, Jody, and Alex had become the closest things to _family_ she had had since her mother had died almost two years prior. She was always welcome at Jody’s home between trips, and there were moments when she almost felt like an older sister to Claire. When it was convenient, they even introduced themselves as sisters, since they both sported long, platinum blond hair.

When Claire received what Jo would later refer to as “the call,” the two of them had just successfully wrapped up a werewolf case. Jo was humming to herself as she unlaced her large, black boots.

She could hear Jody’s voice through the phone, even though Claire wasn’t using speakerphone: “Claire, it’s Sam and Dean. They’re missing. They were on a hunting trip, and nobody’s heard from them in 2 days. It’s time to come home.”

***Dean POV***

November 9, Maybe

It had been a horrible nearly 3 days in the Bad Place, but now, at least, it would be over. He and Sam had been captured by… something. It looked like a ninja, in black robes. It had bound them, with ropes, their backs to a tree. Then it had used a large stick to make a loud _CLANG!_ sound on some hollow bones, and since that point Dean had heard growling, which was slowly coming closer.

“I think it just rang the dinner bell,” Dean said.

But wait! There was another sound… a slight rustling.

“Dean, you hear that?” Sam asked.

Suddenly, Dean felt the tension on the ropes loosen, and saw a flash of platinum blond hair. “Jo?” he asked, hopeful.

“Didja miss me?” Jo asked, grinning her signature grin at him. He had never been so glad to see her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, of course,” said Jo.

Dean was almost free, now, and could turn around fully. He saw Sam, still tied up, as well as the daughter of Castiel’s vessel, Claire Novak. Krissy was right behind them, and Kaia brought up the rear, looking guilty and working on Sam’s ropes.

“Hey boys,” said Claire.

“What would you do without us?” asked Krissy, grinning at them.

“How did you get here?” asked Sam, shaking free of the rope.

“It’s the door, it’s still open,” said Claire.  
“For now,” added Kaia.

“Where’s Jack?” asked Sam. “And Cas?”

“I think Jack’s in the other place with your mom,” said Kaia, dropping her eyes to the ground.

“And Cas got banished to rural Ethiopia,” answered Krissy. “It took him a day and a half just to get to a phone. He’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

Suddenly, Dean heard a thunderous roar.

“It’s time to go,” said Claire, and Dean fully agreed. The six of them ran, as fast as they could.  
“There!” Kaia exclaimed, and Dean saw it. They had been so close! But the rift between universes was growing smaller…  
Suddenly they all turned at the snap of a branch and watched in slow motion as the cloaked figure, so similar to a ninja, hurled its spear at Claire. Jo yanked Claire out of the way at the last moment, however, and instead the spear hurtled into Kaia’s stomach.

“Get them safe!” Dean yelled at Jo, and he didn’t look back to see if she was following directions. He pulled out his angel blade, and he sensed rather than saw that Sam was doing the same next to him.  
There was a loud rustling and snapping, as they faced off with the ninja-person. “Let’s go!” Jo’s voice rang out from behind them. “C’mon!”

But Sam’s gasp next to him stopped Dean in his tracks. Above them was a gigantic monster with glowing red eyes and a face made of rock. 

Dean was awestruck as he took in the gigantic figure. Then, finally, he found his feet, and dove back through the rift after Sam.  
The rift closed behind him. 

Dean turned, slowly, and realized with a start that his current surroundings were almost as shocking as the Bad Place had been, but in a different way.

Scattered across the wide floor of the boat lay about ten dead creatures that Dean recognized as being from the Bad Place. (Dean had named them Blue Vaders after he had killed one during their first evening in the Bad Place, and dissected it. A black mask partially covered their bald faces, and they bled light blue blood, or goo; Dean wasn’t sure which). Kaia lay on the floor directly under where the rift had been, unconscious, blood spurting from her belly. Claire Novak and her sister Alex (Jody Mills’ other adoptive daughter) were now trying desperately to stem the bleeding with every bit of cloth they could find. The wound was a bad one, Dean could tell, but as long as Kaia got immediate medical attention she would most likely survive. Sheriff Jody Mills and Sheriff Donna Handscum were rounding up the other members of the party: Krissy, Charlie the computer nerd, Patience the psychic, and, of course, Eileen. 

Dean’s eyes fell at last on Jo, who was smiling shyly at him. He winked at her, and she winked back, her face turning slightly red.

***Dean POV***

November 9, Night

There was a party. Apparently Jody’s house had been wrecked by the Blue Vaders, who had been tracking Kaia. So, the group of them pooled their money for a giant hotel suite and a lot of alcohol. They had all taken turns taking a shower, because they were all covered in blood (mostly blue), and then begun a long night of drinking, talking, and celebrating the return of the Winchesters.

Dean wanted, desperately, to resume the search for his mother. The problem was that Jack had been required to channel Kaia’s dreamwalker powers the first time around. Besides that, Kaia herself was in no state to dreamwalk. She returned from her trip to the hospital in a stolen wheelchair with her belly heavily bandaged. She had remained mostly unconscious, and was on a variety of pain pills. 

Therefore, Dean supposed that his search for his mother would need to wait until morning. If he was honest, as desperate as he was to find his mother, he was tired, and was looking forward to sleeping in a soft bed.

Despite his mother, and even despite Ember, Dean looked around and allowed himself to feel happy. So many people had come looking for them! In the corner, Kaia was lying on a bed, drearily accepting ice chips from Claire. Next to them, Sheriffs Jody Mills and Donna Handscum clinked their glasses together and laughed about some unknown joke.

In the sitting room, Alex, Patience, and Krissy were having an animated conversation with Sam and Eileen. 

He had just decided to join Sam and Eileen’s conversation when he spotted a flash of blond hair leaving the hotel room. “I’ll be back,” he said to nobody in particular, and darted out to follow Jo.

“Hey!” he said, just as she began to climb into her yellow death trap of a car.

“Hey, Dean!” she said, beaming at him.

“Where ya’ goin?” he asked. “Party’s in there!”

“Well, I just got a call about a possible rugaru case in Georgia. It’s probably nothing, but… you never know.”

Dean considered her for a moment. She seemed happy enough, but there was a sort of hurt look behind her eyes. Was she lonely? Why was she leaving the party so early?

He stepped closer to her, but she stood her ground. “Why?” she said, smiling slightly. “Was there something you wanted?”

“Yes,” he said, making up his mind in a split second. He walked the extra foot to her car, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. 

***Jo POV***

November 9, Night

Jo had liked Dean for a long time – this was old news. It had been a schoolgirl’s crush when she had first known him, before he went to Hell. That was back when she had been working at the roadhouse, barely old enough to drink the alcohol she had been serving. The few times she’d seen him after he went to Hell, he had been with Ember. Jo had thought they would get married and have children of their own, but apparently it wasn’t meant to be. They’d no sooner broken up, however, than Dean had been sent to Purgatory with Dick Roman. 

That had been nearly seven years ago, however, and a lot had happened since then. She’d spent the better part of five and a half years in Greece, and the experience had hardened her in some ways and softened her in others. She understood, for example, that she never wanted children. She was too stubborn, too hardened by “the life”, and, frankly, she liked killing things too damn much. She liked children_, _of course, and she was good with them, too, as she had become more patient and tolerant during her years abroad. In the end, however, it was very simple: she just couldn’t see herself ever slowing down.

Dean was the same, perhaps, and Jo had come to understand this as well. She saw him for who he was. He was a womanizer (as he had been rumored to be both before and after Ember). He was a heavy drinker (though since her mother’s death, Jo thought perhaps she could give him a run for his money). Most of all, he was a damn good hunter, if not _the best._

Ember had perhaps been an anomaly, Jo thought. She had never _disliked_ Ember, exactly. She had certainly been jealous of Ember when she was younger, though she had never been able to find anything to properly hate about the woman. She’d tried, too. When she’d found out that Dean had a girlfriend, Jo had at first imagined her as having perfectly manicured nails, or a bitchy disposition, or being dumb as a box of hair. When she’d found out that Dean’s girlfriend was half-demon, Jo had concocted situations in her mind where she somehow had managed to save Dean from the spellwork of a horrible she-witch. Unfortunately, Jo had gotten to know Ember just well enough to know that none of the things she had imagined were actually true. She had been ultimately forced to admit that she trusted Ember as much as she trusted anyone, though she’d never made the effort to get to know her. 

Though Jo had never been able to properly “hate” Ember, she had always felt that Ember hadn’t been “hardcore” enough for Dean, as she remembered expressing to Ellen on one occasion. That had turned out to be true, at least from what Jo could surmise about their break-up.

Still, Ember was an anomaly. Ember was the only woman that Dean had ever settled down with, and she had psychokinetic abilities as well as the power to become invisible. From what Jo understood of the situation, they had rekindled their romance at some point, and Dean had semi-adopted two of her children. If Ember was the kind of woman that Dean was looking for, Jo was _not_ going to compete. It was no longer a fact Jo was bitter about, however… it was just simply a fact of life.

Therefore, Jo hadn’t given Dean a lot of thought since she had returned from Greece. He looked at her differently now, that was certain. He’d looked at her as though she was a child when he had known her before, so this was definitely a welcome change. And Jo was still attracted to him, of course. Jo had known for some time that sex was on the table, but that perhaps they were waiting for the right time and the right moment, a long dance that had gone on now for several years. And that was fine – she would take it as it came, but she was no longer prone to ridiculous fantasies.

His kiss threw her, however. Her initial reaction was “_Finally!”_ This sounded so much like a 21-year-old version of her, however, that she mentally chided herself before allowing herself to finally engage in something she’d wanted for a very, very long time. His lips were softer than she had expected, but his arms were hard. She responded eagerly, turning and fitting her form against his to give him easier access.

He kissed her furiously, as though he had been starving, and the intensity of the kiss surprised her. She kneaded her hands in his hair, feeling the surprisingly soft spikes, and he made a soft moaning noise into her mouth.

They separated for air, and he kissed a line to her ear, where he whispered huskily, “I’ve got my own room upstairs.” His voice sent shivers down her spine.

“You do?” she asked, caught between surprise and the hazy dreamlike state that resulted from being kissed into oblivion.

“No,” he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’ll get one.”

“Okay,” she said. A second later, she found herself being led back into the hotel. 

She then came to the delayed realization that this actually _was_ going to happen, which was almost terrifying. Then again, she had known that there was every possibility it might happen eventually, and it had been awhile since she’d been laid (almost a year or so, to be honest). (_That’s a healthy way to look at it.)_

And, after all, it was _Dean_. (_That’s a less healthy way to look at it.)_

It was obvious what they were doing, and Jo worried that the hotel clerk would give her a judgmental look. Instead, the hotel clerk (who had long black hair and a too-straight nose) gave Dean a once-over and looked at Jo with pure jealousy. Dean didn’t give the hotel clerk a second glance, which Jo thought was perhaps uncharacteristic, but she didn’t dwell on it.

The room was small and the sheets were white, but Jo didn’t get the time to appreciate either of them. Dean gave her a signature crooked smile and then began raining soft kisses onto her face. _We’re doing this? We’re doing this. We’re doing this!_

He was still kissing her softly and slowly, and she appreciated the gesture but not the pace. She pulled his shirt off, raking her nails up his back as she did so. His brows furrowed in surprise, but he changed tact, and her shirt followed his onto the floor. He backed her onto the bed where she fell, taking him down with her, a look of hungry pride in his eyes.

She attempted to get her hands in between their jeans to pull his off, but he danced away, moaning as her hand brushed the bulge in his pants.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time,” he said huskily, and Jo felt herself shiver.

Dean massaged her breasts, putting his mouth on both of them, and worked at her zipper until he could finally pull her pants away. She attempted again to undo the button on his pants, but managed to touch only the hard planes of his chest.

A few seconds later and his mouth was on her. She cried out in surprise and pleasure – she had never imagined that he would be the type of guy who was willing to perform oral sex on a girl. She was about to tell him not to bother, to take back control, but then the pleasure washed over her and she forgot to care.

She felt her orgasm coming quicker than she expected. _Had it really been that long?_ She saw Dean’s smiling face, and then felt herself falling over the edge, the explosion shaking her entire body.

He kissed her as her orgasm subsided, and she was suddenly exhausted. She wanted him more than ever, though, and was relieved when she felt that he had lined up with her entrance. _When had he taken his pants off?_

She made eye contact briefly, and for a flash of a second there was a look in his eyes that was raw and almost heartbreaking – joy, and nervousness, and cockiness all in one. Then he pushed inside her, and pleasure exploded once more down her spine.

He allowed her to get used to the feel of him, then began to thrust in earnest, a slow and steady pace. “_Dean_,” she whispered, and he groaned in response, speeding up the pace.

She had imagined this so many times, far more than she would have been willing to admit. Each time she imagined it, she had imagined that she would show him her “moves” – she would be on top, or blowing him, and he would forget his own name.

Instead, she could tell that there was no need for this, that he was as enraptured as she was, and anyway, this way felt so _damn _good. She raked her nails lightly down his back, and he thrusted deeper, staring hard into her eyes. And then she fell once more over the edge, and he groaned and followed soon after, collapsing on top of her.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Jo would readily admit that it had been the best sex she’d had for some time. Maybe not the best sex _ever_, because Jo had had some pretty good sex along the way, especially in Greece, with a guy named Stelios. (Not that Dean needed to know that.)

She was still blown away by the orgasm when Dean said with a grin, “Well that was… unexpected. But… awesome.”

“What was unexpected about it?” she asked, turning to him with a lazy smile.

A small annoyed look flashed across Dean’s features, and Jo realized too late that Dean wasn’t used to post-coitus discussion. The expression left his features almost as soon as it had appeared, though. Dean thought a moment, and it looked as though the wheels were turning very slowly as he recovered from orgasm. “The whole night,” he said, finally. “The sex being the best part of it, of course.”

“Mmmm,” Jo agreed, settling into his chest and enjoying the moment.

It was a long time – at least five minutes – before either of them spoke again. “Thanks for coming to save us,” he said finally. It was a voice she’d never heard him use before – not cocky, or self-assured, but not whiny either. She wondered perhaps if this was the _real_ Dean talking, rather than the façade he put on to get through the day, but shrugged it off again as girlish fantasy.

“Of course,” she said. “Of course we’d save you. You’d have done the same for all of us.”

“It helps to know…” his voice wandered off, before he said finally, “that along the way, we’ve done something good. To have everyone we know waiting for us like that… it was almost perfect.”

“Almost?” she said, raising her eyebrows and turning towards him.

He gave her a slightly shocked look and visibly backtracked, but seemed to realize he was stuck. “Well, would’ve been nice to have Cas, and Ember,” he admitted. 

She could tell from the way he said it that Castiel’s and Ember’s absences meant more to him than he had let on. He _was _still in love with Ember, then. She tried not to be too disappointed. She’d really thought that they had something…

_We talked about this, _her inner voice seemed to chide her.

“But you…” Dean looked at Jo, and she was surprised, again, at the sincerity that reflected from his eyes. “I’ve wanted this to happen for a very, very long time.” And he kissed her, a slow, sweet kiss.

Was he always like this after sex? She’d known a few girls that he’d slept with after a hunt that said he never called them afterward, but had he acted like _this_ with them? From the way they’d made it sound, it was more of a traditional “nail and bail” situation.

He was kissing across her neck, now, and he was _so_ good at it… Who knew when she would have this again? Another round was definitely in the cards. She could “show him her moves” this time, for what it was worth. Then she’d definitely leave… preferably before morning, if she could manage it. She wanted to be out early. If she could leave before he did, it would save him the trouble of an awkward morning-after good-bye. Then maybe he’d get the message that she wouldn’t try to tie him down, and perhaps they could do this again sometime.

***Dean POV***

November 10, Morning

Dean felt good, better than he had in a long time. 

_Jo_… he reached for her in the bed next to him… but she was gone.

He heard rustling, and rolled over to find his partner from the previous night almost completely dressed. “Jo?” he asked in question, and she jumped.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Leaving?” he asked, trying not to sound to disappointed.

“Yeah,” she said. “Gotta get to Georgia. You know how it is.”

She was leaving so soon? A feeling of disappointment threatened to overwhelm him, but he kept his face impassive. “’m I gonna see you soon? ‘Should do this again sometime.”

Jo stopped putting on her boots, looking at him curiously. “I mean, I didn’t think you wanted us to be, like, a _thing, _or anything.” She wasn’t derisive, or condescending… she was simply laying out her boundaries, and he understood this.

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head as disappointment settled in his stomach. “We’re both way too busy. ‘Just figured, you know…” he shrugged. “We made a good team, last night.” He gave her his signature cocky grin.

“We did,” she said, giving him a sly grin of her own and coming over to the bed to kiss him. He knew that she had believed his façade. And, he attempted to convince himself, this was a good thing – it guaranteed him sex on a semi-regular basis without any major commitments. 

After a few more good-bye kisses, she slunk out the door, and he rolled over and went back to sleep.

***Sam POV***

November 10, Evening

Everyone checked out of the hotel by noon. Jody, Claire, Patience, Kaia, Donna, and Alex all headed back by 11AM to tackle the monumental project of cleaning their home, which had been ransacked by the monsters that Dean had taken to calling “Blue Vaders”. Eileen had gone to help them. Charlie left by 11:30 as well. Krissy had headed back to Conway Springs for school.

Dean showed back up in the hotel room at five minutes to noon. His face was impassive, and only Sam knew him well enough to know that he was making a supreme effort at this. 

Sam threw his brother a beer. “So. Jo, yeah? Bout time.”

Dean eyed his younger brother, and Sam felt suddenly self-conscious in his loose-layered clothes and messed-up hair. He had had a very good reunion with Eileen the previous night, as she had been worried sick about him while he had been in the Bad Place. “You’re one to talk,” said Dean, smirking.

Sam felt himself blush. “So? You guys a thing now?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah. I’m a leaf on the wind, man.”

Sam smiled, rolling his eyes. It was the best mood his brother had been in in awhile. Perhaps it was the chance to take advantage of it. “Dean… speaking of girlfriends.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked teasingly. “How’s _Eileen?”_

“I think I’m gonna propose.”

Dean had been leaning back in his chair, but now the feet of the chair hit the floor abruptly. “Yeah? When?”

Sam shrugged. “Christmas, maybe. Dunno yet.” 

“So… apple pie life?” Dean asked. 

Sam could tell from Dean’s face that his brother was trying to mask his growing upset, and Sam was quick to reassure him. “Nah, not for awhile. Maybe after we take care of Lucifer. But Dean… _she’s _a hunter _too_, remember? We’re never gonna have an _apple pie life_, not really.”

“You’d move out of the bunker, though.” It was a question, not a statement.

“D’ya know, we talked about it,” said Sam. “But after the hellhound…” he sighed. “We were kinda thinking she might move in.”

“Huh,” Dean said. He seemed to be thinking about this at great length. Finally, he said, “Yeah, she’s good for you, man.”

That was all that needed to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did Jo justice. She's so stubborn and independent and sometimes distrustful that I feel like it'd be easy for the two of them to misinterpret each other. Jo thinks she's playing with fire, and meanwhile he's calmed down a lot by this point in time. Neither of them were ever particularly good at communication.


	68. Various and Sundry Villains

***Sam POV***

November 25th

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

No research had unearthed a way to bring Mary and Jack back from the other universe. 

Kaia tried her best to dream-walk to anywhere but the Bad Place without Jack’s help, but she was unable. One night, she awakened with a particularly bloody scratch across her back, and Jody wasted no time driving her to Ember and Castiel’s house.

Dean and Sam met her there, and Castiel spent over an hour searching through her mind. “I can’t help you open up pathways to other universes,” he admitted finally. “That’s not within an angel’s power, not even an archangel. Only Jack can do that.”

“Then there’s no point in me having these dreams,” said Kaia, looking up at Castiel imploringly. “Please. Just make them go away.”

Sam looked at Dean, then back at Castiel and Kaia. “Can you do that, Cas? Wall up her mind permanently, so she can’t dream about the Bad Place?”

Castiel sighed. “I can do my best,” he said. “I can put a… a dam, if you will, in place, so that her subconscious knows not to go there, even in her dreams. Perhaps when Jack returns, he can help her further.”

Nobody suggested that Jack might never return. Dean looked unhappy, but he raised no objections to Castiel’s solution.

It was days like this when Sam was most thankful for Eileen, as she kept him sane. Most of the time it was all he could do not to ignore the thought that Eileen would surely leave him, too; if she didn’t die prematurely, she would surely leave once she realized how permanently damaged his psyche was.

He tried to imagine what Ember would have said. “_Eileen’s damaged, too. That’s why she never stays for more than a few days at a time between hunting trips. That’s why despite the fact that you’ve dated for almost a year now, you still haven’t discussed the future past possibly moving in here. That’s why even though you know she’ll say yes, you’re still scared shitless to propose.”_

But Ember was gone, too. The white face of his long-time best friend still stared at him, sleeping peacefully, each time he went over to her house. Ironically, everyone had started to call it “Castiel’s house” or “the kids’ house”, because Ember was no longer an active resident.

The longer time went on, Sam began to wonder which was more impossible: curing a half-demon, or finding another rift to Apocalypse World.

***Dean POV***

**ONE MONTH LATER**

December 26, Morning

Christmas came and went. Sam and Eileen had planned to go to Florida on vacation, which, to his knowledge, was both of their first vacations ever. Sam had worried that Dean would be lonely with just himself and possibly the children, however, and repeatedly announced that he planned to back out of the trip. Finally, however, Jo had agreed to visit for a couple of nights starting the 22nd, which allowed Sam the freedom to accept Dean shooing him out the door.

Dean and Jo had had two very good nights of amazing sex and talking, and then she had taken off again, back to Greece for a few days. She’d invited him to go with her, but he’d already made plans to host Krissy for the holidays, as well as Aidan (Josephine was staying with a boyfriend).

Christmas itself was a bit lonely, but admittedly not the worst Christmas he’d ever had (especially if you counted the ones he’d spent in Hell). Sam called him to say that he and Eileen had gotten engaged, and the children surprised him by pooling their money to buy him a new pistol. They spent a good afternoon in target practice.

Finally, the day after Christmas, Castiel showed up on the doorstep to the bunker. “Dean. I have news,” he said, “and you’re not going to like it.”

“About Ember?” Krissy demanded.

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, walking into the bunker without being asked. His trenchcoat was caked in snow, and he took the time to hang it up for once.

“I’ve now managed to look through every book I know exists, both in Heaven and in Hell,” he said. “And I only found this one thing.” He opened a large tome and placed it delicately on the table. It was well-worn and yellowed, and yet dust flew out of it.

“That’s in Enochian, Cas,” Dean reminded him. “I can’t read that.”

“I can,” said Krissy. “He’s been teaching me.”

Castiel smiled at her, though it was obviously forced. “Give it a shot?”

“Yeah, okay,” said Krissy, bending over the large book. “_Of the curing of half-demons, no one learns_… no, that can’t be right.”

“_Knows_,” offered Castiel. “No one _knows_.”

“Right,” said Krissy, putting her tongue between her teeth in concentration. “_No one knows more than Lucifer, the father of demons_.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” said Dean.

“Neither do I,” said Castiel. “But I’ll do anything. And I need your help.”

***Castiel POV***

January 2, Night

**ONE WEEK LATER**

“You need to go around to the side, Dean,” said Castiel. “Lucifer’s in the back, toward the left.”

Dean sighed, driving the Impala around the building.

”_Are you here yet?”_ asked Lucifer inside Castiel’s head.

“_We’re here,” _Castiel answered as the group inside the Impala filed out into the overgrown shrubbery to the left of the building. Sheriff Jody Mills and Claire followed behind them in Jody’s sheriff car, eager to help. Castiel felt grateful that such a large group of people had answered his call for such an important (if detestable) rescue mission. 

“_Good. It’s about time. Father built this world faster than this rescue,” _Lucifer said irritably.

_ “I’m already starting to regret this,” _Castiel fired back.

“Okay,” said Dean, looking around at the group of them. Sam held hands with Eileen, a shiny new silver ring on her hand. Krissy and Claire looked nervous but ready. Dean and Jody were looking determined. “Remember, we’ve only got one shot at this. Wait until the smoke clears, then run in on my command. Kris, are you ready?” 

“Yes,” Krissy said with the widest grin Castiel had ever seen.

The group waited. 

Dean looked crossly at Krissy. “We stop a mile down the road, tops, and switch.”

“Fine,” she said, still grinning.

The group kept waiting.

Finally, Dean sighed. “You scratch her, you die, family or not,” he said, handing over the keys to his precious Impala.

“Thanks!” Krissy said, and bounded toward Baby, grinning from ear to ear.

A few minutes later, they heard the echoing _BOOM_ of the grenade launcher on the other side of the building. “There’s the diversion shot,” Dean said. They listened for another moment, then heard a second loud _BOOM_, this time shot by Eileen.

“Okay,” Dean said. “One… two… three… GO! Go now!”

As one, Dean, Sam, Claire, Jody, and Castiel ran toward the building.

Three demons met them immediately, all of which were finished off by a demon bomb. “Straight on ahead!” shouted Castiel at the rest of them, pointing down the hallway toward Lucifer’s cage. 

There were another three demons coming down the hall, but these were more staggered. Sam got one of them with the demon knife, Krissy shot one in the leg, and Claire engaged in combat with the third until Jody slit his throat. Sam finished off both of these with the knife before they could recover.

“Split!” yelled Dean, and they all ran different directions. Claire and Jody, who had fought as a team before, headed back to the entrance in case any demons doubled back around. Sam and Dean ran forward to head off anything that came down the hall from the other way… in particular, anything that came up out of Hell.

Castiel’s job was more specific.

“Welcome to the party!” said Lucifer when he came to a stop in front of his cage. “Hope you brought-…”

“Put these on!” yelled Castiel, tossing a pair of warded handcuffs through the bars. 

“Do we really have to-…”

“We’re all fighting to rescue you, you _ass_,” snapped Castiel. “Now put the damn cuffs on!”

Someone screamed from down the hall.

“Fine, just trying to have a little fun,” Lucifer grumbled. He put one cuff over his left hand and used the left hand to attach the right cuff.

Castiel smited a demon that had broken through either Jody and Claire or Dean and Sam. There was another scream, and an “oof” noise from down the hallway. “Hurry up!” Dean yelled. “We can’t hold them off much longer!”

“Now, duck!” yelled Castiel.

“What?” said Lucifer, confused, but Castiel had already attached the small explosive device to his cell. “Hey, wa-…” 

_BOOM! _Castiel had shielded himself as well as he could, but Lucifer had taken a good portion of the blast. His handcuffs were in tact, but a long piece of the wall was now sticking clear through his stomach, and there was a large chunk missing from his thigh. 

Castiel was hurt, too: he could feel the trickle of blood coming from his head, and there was a large gash on his leg as well.

“Time to go!” Castiel yelled, and he heard Sam and Dean retreating toward them down the hallway in response.

“Let’s go,” he repeated, grabbing Lucifer’s arm, slippery with blood, and dragging him toward the gaping hole left by Dean’s grenade launcher.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Two miles down the road, the large group regrouped. Eileen and Krissy were the only ones with no injuries, as they had been driving the getaway cars. Krissy was still grinning from the rush of getting to shoot a grenade launcher and drive the Impala.

Everyone else had various injuries. Sam had done fairly well, with only a few bumps and bruises. Jody’s eye was swollen shut, and Dean had a dislocated shoulder and a gunshot wound in his thigh. Claire’s ankle was broken. Castiel healed them all easily, but Lucifer’s injuries were more difficult.

“This wasn’t what I had in mind when you contacted me about a rescue,” Lucifer snapped at them.

“Bite me,” said Krissy.

“Yeah, well, you got blood on the Impala,” snapped Dean.

“Big words for such a young child,” Lucifer taunted at Krissy.

“Shut up, or I’ll give you more injuries to whine about,” said Castiel, effectively ending the conversation. He concentrated, and healed the wound in Lucifer’s stomach left by the large piece of wall. “The rest aren’t so bad,” Castiel snapped. “You’ll live, even without use of your healing powers.”

“I suppose I should be thankful,” snapped Lucifer.

***Castiel POV***

January 3, Morning

“Okay,” Castiel said. “You promised us you had a solution.”

They were in an abandoned warehouse in a rural part of Kansas. (“If Ember awakens and realizes we let Lucifer in her home, she’ll kill us, demon or not,” Sam had pointed out, and Castiel knew he was right.) Ember lay comfortably on a long table, sleeping soundly, while Castiel, Dean, Sam, Eileen, Krissy, Jody, and Claire stood around her.

“Wwwhhhhhy?” Lucifer whined. “I mean, she’s perfect the way she is!”

“She’s a _demon_ the way she is,” Castiel pointed out.

“Yeah, a very powerful one!” Lucifer shot back. “Think of all the ways she could-…”

“Turn her back. NOW,” Dean said, and he shot Lucifer in the foot.

“Ow!” Lucifer said, shaking his foot. It was bleeding a little bit, though not as much as perhaps it should have. “Guns actually hurt me while I have these handcuffs on, you know!”

“Not seeing a down side here,” Dean said.

“Fine, geez!” said Lucifer. “Okay, look. So, the more bad you do, the more you go demon.”

“Tell us something we don’t know,” snapped Castiel.

“The same’s true the other way around,” Lucifer finished, looking at them as though they should have realized this.

“So, what, if she does something _righteous_ she can gain control of her demon powers again?” scoffed Sam derisively.

“Well, ‘righteous’ has a lot of definitions,” Lucifer started. Seeing their serious expressions, however, he added finally, “but yes, an extremely righteous or selfless act would restore control. Though that would truly be a wa-…”

“How can she do that?” asked Eileen, cutting him off. “Right now her demon side is in control.”

“Not necessarily,” said Lucifer, looking at Castiel.

“When I put her to sleep, she was still fighting against it,” Castiel confirmed. “She’s in a sort of… stasis. But I’m not sure if she can hold on that long!” he finished, rounding on Lucifer. “We kept our end of the bargain. Give us a better solution.”

“I promised you a solution, not a miracle,” said Lucifer. “The way I’ve explained to you is the only way. Although, if you let me out of the handcuffs, I could make sure she could better control-…”

“Over my dead body,” snapped Castiel.

“Over my dead body,” mocked Lucifer.

“Okay,” said Dean, taking control. Castiel was glad, as he was strongly considering stabbing Lucifer with his angel blade. They might still need him if something went wrong with Ember. 

“Say this actually works,” said Dean. “Say she wakes up, and she hasn’t gone completely dark side yet. What should we tell her to do?”

“Whatever she wants,” said Lucifer, looking unconcerned. “She’s a half-demon with full use of her powers. She can, I don’t know, rob a bank and teleport to Africa and make it rain.” He mimed the throwing of money. “Or, I don’t know, exorcise all the demons in the south Pacific. Whatever you guys would do in your wildest do-gooder dreams, if you had her powers.”

Sam sighed. “Okay,” he said, resigned. “Well, somebody will have to watch Lucifer. If she sees him…”

Sam trailed off, but Castiel agreed. It wouldn’t do for Ember to see Lucifer out of his cage, not while she was going through this process. 

“Jody, Eileen, Claire, and Krissy… you guys watch Lucifer,” said Dean. “The rest of us-…”

“No,” snapped Krissy.

“Kris,” began Sam calmly.

“She’s my mother,” said Krissy. “I know you don’t want me to see her if this goes bad. But if anything will calm her demon side, it’ll be me.”

Sam and Dean looked at the Krissy, considering her. “Dude, she’s right,” Sam said softly.

“Fine,” Dean said, agreeing. “Jody, Claire, Eileen…”

The three that Dean had indicated left with Lucifer in tow. When they were far out of sight, Castiel spoke softly. “OK. I’ll say the incantation, and then… and then we’ll explain the situation as best we can. Worst case scenario…” He stopped.

“Worst case scenario, you can send her back to sleep again,” said Dean. “I’ve already given Rowena a call.”

Castiel nodded. “Okay, then,” he said, sighing. He put his hands on Ember’s head. It was blank. “One… two… three… _Exsomnis vigil.”_

Ember awoke with a start. Castiel could see into her mind, and it was full of murder, and death. “Cas!” she shouted, latching onto him. “Cas, I can’t-…” 

Then she spotted Krissy, Dean, and Sam, and a look of anguish came onto her face. “Please help me,” she said, and she seemed to sink into herself. The evil thoughts had receded somewhat, but Castiel could tell she was still barely holding them at bay.

“We’ve found a way,” Dean said, speaking softly. “You have to tap into your powers and use them for good.”

“Just think of the most kind thing you’ve ever wanted to do,” Sam said. “But it can’t involve murder, or anything evil. It can negate the demon part of you, force it back down like it was before.”

Castiel could tell she was trying. A million scenarios flashed through her mind. Most of them were still of murder, and death, but there were other scenarios that Ember forced to the surface: feeding the hungry, exorcising demons, saving innocent souls in Hell… 

Suddenly the door crashed open. “Hey, everyone!” Lucifer said. He was still wearing his handcuffs, rope trailing from one foot, and blood coming steadily from a new gash in his arm.

“I tried to stop him!” shouted Claire, tears in her eyes. One eye was particularly puffy, and it was obvious that Lucifer had punched her in his attempt to get away. Jody was just behind her, also running.

At once, the room turned to see Ember’s reaction. Her eyes lit up, first with anger, then with an idea. Just as she thought of an idea, however, her mind went completely blank. Castiel realized with horror that she had shut him out. Her mind was more powerful than his, now, and she was blocking his access.

Still, Ember allowed Castiel to keep his hand on her shoulder as she made her steady progression across the room toward Lucifer. Lucifer looked just the tiniest bit scared as he looked into her dangerous brown eyes, and the thought caused Castiel to hope that she killed him. At least, perhaps, something good would come out of this… maybe. There was so much anger and hatred in her eyes…

“I was thinking,” said Lucifer when Ember stopped in front of him. “I’m the Father of demons, you’re a demon now…” he shrugged. “So?”

The room took a breath. Everyone had drawn weapons, except for Castiel, and they were all poised to strike.

Ember looked at Lucifer, long and hard, as if considering him. Her eyes flared with anger, but she smiled. “Nah,” she said. Then, very slowly, she put her hand very firmly around Lucifer’s wrist. Lucifer’s eyes widened.

What was happening? Ember was powerful now, and Lucifer was warded… could she kill him? If she did, would that be considered a _righteous_ act, or would it be her final fall to her demon side? Castiel was sure it would be her final fall to her demon side.

Then Lucifer was screaming, a loud, blood-curdling scream. “Ember, no!” Castiel screamed. “You can’t-…” Dean started forward, but he was repelled by Ember, and stopped at a seemingly invisible wall.

And then the pain started. At some point Ember’s other hand had latched onto Castiel’s wrist. The pain was horrible, like nothing he had ever imagined. It was worse than torture, worse than the Fall, worse than everything. Someone was screaming, and he was sure it was him…

But there was something new. Through the pain, he could feel them. His wings were… _changing. _They were _growing._ She was… she _couldn’t be_! She _was!_

Castiel forced his eyes open. As he watched in horror, Lucifer’s handcuffs popped off. He was screaming, writhing on the ground now, as she siphoned what little power he had left and poured it into Castiel. In contrast, Castiel felt rooted to the spot. He watched, in the early morning glow of shadows on the wall of the abandoned warehouse, as his wings grew slowly to their former glory.

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the main plot... I added this plot twist because I love the idea that Cas and Jack both have wings and they fly around together. I can find ways around Castiel flying, if I don't want him to be OP, easy enough. I am perfectly capable of what the actors reportedly call "pulling the thread," and then winding it back together in a way that works (I hope). I did save Kaia... I'm hopeless with this whole saving thing, but I needed a party atmosphere for Jo and Dean to get together, and so I needed to keep her alive. Still ultimately killed Bobby and Ellen, though, so at least I'm consistent there.


	69. Devil's Bargain

***Dean POV***

January 3, Morning

Dean didn’t really understand what was happening. There was an invisible wall holding him back from reaching Ember, Lucifer, and Castiel. He could sense, somehow, by the feel of the magic, that the wall had been created by Ember. She was so powerful now…

Castiel, Lucifer, and Ember were all screaming, and he could see Castiel’s wings growing larger in the shadows on the wall. How was she doing it? Was she taking power from Lucifer and converting it to remake Castiel’s wings? Could she even _do _that? Would this be _good _enough for her to conquer her demon side?

And then, at the same time, several things happened. Castiel and Ember dropped to the ground, unresponsive. Everyone else in the room, himself included, fell forward, no longer struggling against the invisible wall. And Lucifer darted out the door.

Sam was the quickest on his feet, but even he took far longer than Lucifer to recover. Claire and Eileen darted after Sam, but Dean, Jody, and Krissy rushed to Ember’s side.

***Castiel POV***

January 3, Morning

Castiel came back to consciousness slowly. It felt like slogging through mud. Sleeping… he _never _got to do this… Not… not human…

_Ember! My wings!_

Castiel sat bolt upright. Krissy, who had been leaning over him investigating, scrambled backward in shock.

“Ember!” Castiel said, moving around the room and rushing to his girlfriend. He put his hands on her head and sighed with relief.

“Back to normal,” he said. “She’s dreaming, peacefully. They’re good dreams… like the dreams she would’ve had before her demon side had control.”

There was silence. Then Krissy said, “Why is she sleeping?”

“Oh,” Castiel said. “She’s very weak. She overexerted herself, I think. She’ll need to sleep off and on for the next couple of days, but… her demonic side is back under control, I think.” He said a quick thank-you to his father, and pulled Ember into his lap, cradling her there. If he had been able to cry, he would have done so. He was so, _so _happy…

“Cas, what happened?” asked Krissy.

“She… she fixed my wings,” said Castiel. 

There was silence.

“_How?”_ Dean asked.

“I’m not sure,” said Castiel. “She diverted power from Lucifer, but… I honestly didn’t know she could do that. The power required to remake an angels’ wings…” He shook his head in awe.

Suddenly Dean’s eyes widened. “Cas! Your wings! Can you go look for Lucifer?”

Castiel’s heart sank. “No, I… I’m sorry. They’re still stiff. I can’t really move them right now… it’ll be a day or two. If I try now, I’ll fall…” He wished he could help. But he _would_ help, in the future…

“It’s cool, man,” said Dean, though he looked disappointed.

Sam rushed through the door then, Eileen and Claire behind him. He looked at Dean and shook his head.

“Damn it!” Dean said. “We had him handcuffed! What-…”

“Ember broke them off, accidentally. They couldn’t take the surge of magic leaving Lucifer and going into her, and they burnt up,” Castiel explained. “I’m really sorry. Ember thought she was doing good. She-…”

“Is she okay?” Sam asked hurriedly.

There was a lot of talking after that, a lot of rejoicing about Ember’s condition, and a lot of commiserating about the fact that Lucifer was, once again, free.

“Look,” said Dean, smacking Castiel on the back. “Don’t worry about it, man. We’ve caught him before, and we’ll catch him again. And, look at the bright side: you have a girlfriend _and _wings!”

Dean definitely had a point there. They were just like his old wings, before he had burnt them in Hell. These new ones were white, and majestic, and proud. 

More importantly, Ember was back, and she was going to be okay.

***Ember POV***

January 5, Morning

Ember awakened fully nearly two days later. When she finally did, she was surprised to find herself at the bunker. Castiel, Dean, and Sam were gathered around a table.

“Ember!” Castiel said, sensing she was awake.

“Cas,” she said croakily. “What’s going on?”

“How are you doing? Wait… what month is it?” Her voice sounded dry and cracked.

“It’s the fifth of January,” Castiel explained. His hand was on her head, and she could already feel him attempting to calm her. 

“No, Cas!” she said, fighting his hand off.

Thoughts raced through her head as memories came back quickly. Being imprisoned with Lucifer… the beach in the dream with Castiel… finding out her father was _Azazel_… losing herself to her demon side… begging Castiel to put her to sleep… waking up, and being instructed to attempt to do something _good_… channeling Lucifer’s grace to rebuild Castiel’s wings. It had been the first _good _thing she could think of that her demonic side hadn’t refused outright, a sort of “hail Mary” as she had fought between her demon and human halves.

“Where’s Lucifer?” she said finally.

The other three looked at each other uncomfortably. 

“When you rebuilt my wings… he escaped,” Castiel said. “We’re doing all we can to look for him. We’re sorry.”

Ember put her head in her hands in anguish. “I’m sorry!” She exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry he-…” She stopped. “How did he escape Asmodeus’ jail?”

The men once more looked uncomfortable. “He was the only one who knew how to make you better,” Castiel said finally.

Ember once more resumed sobbing. She thought that perhaps she may have been angry, if she wasn’t so tired. “Dammit! God _dammit!_ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I never meant to-…”

“We didn’t even expect him to come back from the other universe,” said Sam gently. “But we’ve found him and trapped him before. We’ll do it again.”

Ember was still distraught. “And _Azazel!_ God, Dean, Sam, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I…”

But she broke off, her sobs turning into hiccups as she fought for breath. Castiel put his hand on her face, and this time she allowed him to calm her mind somewhat.

“You can’t help who your father is,” said Sam gently, and he enveloped her in a big hug. “It doesn’t change the way we look at you. Right _Dean_?_” _he added, giving his brother a significant look.

Dean smiled, though his mouth was still set in a line. “Bobby is your father,” he offered. The look he gave her said clearly that the fact that Azazel was her biological father was never to be brought up again, nor would he ever discuss it. It had clearly gone on the long list of “Things Dean Winchester Will Avoid Forever.”

In the end, this was probably for the best.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember was overwhelmed by everything that had happened while she was gone. Her father… _Azazel._ And Jack, in the other world… she wished she hadn’t been asleep! If she had been there, perhaps she could’ve helped fight off the angels, and he never would have gone to the Apocalypse World. But, if she hadn’t used her demon powers, they also never would have gotten out of Asmodeus’ jail…

It was a lot to think on.

Beyond this, there was the fact that Ember had been asleep for nearly two months. There was a business to rebuild (again), and bills to catch up on (again), and children she needed to become reacquainted with (again). 

At least this time, she hadn’t caused any lasting damage. As far as number of casualties, this time there had been only two deaths of humans with meat suits that would have otherwise survived an exorcism. All of the other meat suits Ember had exploded in Hell already had critical injuries. (She had recognized this at the time, though she hadn’t cared.) The “death toll” was relatively low compared to what it might have been, leaving Ember’s mind free to dwell on Lucifer and Jack.

Lucifer was nowhere to be found. The group assumed that he must’ve found a way to tattoo himself or get other warding, because even Castiel couldn’t find him.

Still, Castiel was hopeful. Ember hadn’t seen him in this good a mood since Jack’s disappearance. She knew it was because he had his wings back, and also because she was once more awake. They didn’t discuss it, but Ember could see in his thoughts during the times he allowed her to share her mind with him that the past few months had been difficult for the angel. His mood was infectious, and soon Ember found that she also felt more optimism than she had before her two months asleep.

Castiel devised a plan to find Lucifer. According to Lucifer’s story, the Kevin Tran in the Apocalypse World had used a spell found on the Apocalypse World’s angel tablet to open a rift between universes. Perhaps they could use the same spell, if they could figure out what it was.

They didn’t have the angel tablet, because Castiel had smashed it to pieces in the process of overthrowing Metatron. They _did_ have the demon tablet, however, and Castiel wondered if perhaps the spell to open the rift would be printed on the demon tablet as well. It couldn’t hurt to look, so the Winchesters recruited Donatello, the prophet, to decipher the demon tablet.

Meanwhile, Castiel got a tip through angel radio about a cupid that had been killed. He flew the four of them to investigate, smiling shyly at Ember in thanks for his new wings.

Ultimately, they followed Lucifer’s trail to Elgin Hall, the workplace of a supposed “faith healer”, Sister Jo. Sam, who had gotten the tip from a homeless man Lucifer had spoken with in the streets, suspected that “Sister Jo” was actually an angel, and Castiel agreed. 

Instead of Lucifer or Sister Jo, however, they came face to face with Arthur Ketch. “It’s only you,” he said, lowering his weapon and rolling his eyes in disappointment.

“What the hell!” yelled Ember. “Mary Winchester shot you in the head!”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “Turns out, didn’t take.”

He turned to Ketch. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Ketch sighed. “Do we really have to do all of this again? Last time we were together I saved your lives and you shot me. Doesn’t that make us even?”

“No, I guess not,” said Dean.

“Dean asked you a question,” snapped Sam. “What are you doing here?”

“My sources tell me Lucifer’s back,” said Ketch. “He’s weak and he is, or was, in this wonderful little slice of Americana. I was going to try and kill him. As were you, I assume.”

“Okay, who are you working for?” asked Sam.

“Isn’t it possible that I am simply trying to strike a blow for the good of humanity?” Ketch asked.

“No. That’s not possible,” said Castiel, who could identify the lie. 

“Truth be told, taking out Lucifer would be an enormous feather in the cap,” said Ketch, switching tactics. “My business model is very, um, word of mouth.”

“Alright, so if Lucifer isn’t here, where is he?” asked Sam.

“Ah, excellent question,” said Ketch. “I propose we team up. Share intel. Cover more ground. Hmm? Huzzah!”

Castiel was apparently unamused, and put Ketch to sleep with a touch on the forehead. The four of them drug the sleeping Ketch to the Impala.

“Alright, I say we take dickbag back to the bunker and find out what he knows, put a bullet in him and burn his bones and flush his ashes,” said Dean.

“I like that plan,” said Castiel.

“Hey, check this out,” said Sam, pulling up his tablet. He had found a video of Sister Jo.

“That’s Sister Jo, the faith healer?” Dean asked.

“No, that’s an angel,” said Ember.

Castiel nodded. “Her name is Anael.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Sam had managed to trace the credit card of Sister Jo’s vessel to a motel on the edge of town. He also found her phone number, and called her and convinced her there was a problem with her card that she needed to come take care of. When she left the motel, the four of them cornered her, Ember invisible.

“Anael,” Castiel said bluntly.

“Castiel. What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised.

“We were going to ask you the same thing,” said Dean.

“We’re looking for Lucifer,” filled in Sam. “Have you seen him? Do you know where he is?”

“Yes, he’s in the room,” said Anael. She glanced downward at Castiel’s hand, but he caught the move and dropped Ember’s hand very quickly. None of them wanted her to know that Ember was invisible.

“Has he hurt you?” asked Castiel.

“Not yet. He’s threatened,” said Anael. “He wants to drain my grace.”

“So he’s still weak?” asked Sam.

“Very. You have to help me,” she begged.

“We will,” said Dean. “But first you’re going to have to help us.”

They explained the plan. 

“Lord Lucifer?” Anael said a few minutes later, knocking on a motel room door. “Can you let me in? Sorry, I forgot my key.”

Lucifer opened the door, and Dean came rushing inside. Castiel flew Ember into the room, cornering Lucifer.

“Morning sunshine,” said Dean.

“Sup, Gents? Guess ya’ caught me.”

“They made me,” Anael said to Lucifer. “They forced me to tell them how weak you still are.”

“Well, great seeing you,” said Lucifer. “It’s been a long time. Eh, nice jacket there, Dean. Your hair, Sam, it’s magnificent. Is that a leave-in conditioner you have there? And your wings, Cas! Guess it helps to have an abomination on your side. Speaking of which, where is your little piece these days?” he winked at Castiel, whose hand balled up into a fist.

Lucifer must truly be weak if he couldn’t see Ember, she thought. At his full power, he was more than able to.

“We got this,” Sam whispered to Sister Jo. “Go.”

“So what do we do now?” Lucifer asked. “You gonna kill me?”

“Mmm, eventually,” said Dean, holding up the angel cuffs.

At that moment, however, Anael launched herself at Sam. Lucifer pushed Dean into a corner with his powers, then began grappling with Castiel. The two seemed somewhat equal in power, though Lucifer appeared to have the upper hand. 

Ember was about to add her force power to Castiel’s when she saw Sam tossed aside, hitting the wall and falling like a rag doll. She redirected her force powers against Anael, slamming her against the wall. “The demon is with them!” Anael yelled to Lucifer, sloppily fighting off Ember’s grip. “We need to go!”

Suddenly, there was a loud _BANG!_ and Lucifer and Jo vanished.

There was silence for a second, and hazy grey smoke floated around the room. Ketch had appeared out of nowhere and launched a demon bomb at Lucifer and Anael.

“Did you just-…” asked Dean, helping Sam off the ground. 

“No, they vanished before it went off,” Ketch grumbled. “But you’re welcome.”

“Congratulations, you just helped Lucifer escape,” snapped Dean.

“Put another way, I opted out of my own escape and put myself in harm’s way to save your lives,” snapped Ketch. “Again. That angel – Anael? – has been helping him. His grace has been rejuvenated, at least in part. And the four of you – even _you, _Ember, wherever you are – can’t capture and kill an archangel and another angel, even at half their power.”

None of them had any response to that. Ember became visible gain, and Ketch acknowledged her with a nod. Ember hated that her secret was out now to all-comers, but she’d known that this would happen when she made the choice to give birth to Jack.

“How did you get out of the trunk?” Sam asked finally.

“I’m Ketch,” he said, as though it were self-explanatory. Perhaps it was. “I found the demon bomb in your weapons cache and I thought it might make a dent. Lucky I did, too. Now that Satan’s found a new source of grace, he’s far more formidable. Who was the female angel?”

“Her name is Anael,” said Castiel. “In Heaven she was nothing. She was a low level functionary.”

“Yeah, well, now she’s Satan’s gal pal. That’s awesome,” said Dean.

“Gentlemen, this may once again fall on deaf ears, but I shall have another go. Clearly, Lucifer is more dangerous than we thought. I propose we pool resources and go after him together.”

“Dude, why would we ever trust you?” asked Sam.

“Fine, as proof of my sincerity, I shall come clean. I’m working for Asmodeus. Happy?”

“No!” exclaimed Ember. “He had me imprisoned!”

“And, yet, here you are,” said Ketch. “Just as impervious and indestructible as the rest of us.”

The group stared at him with narrowed eyes. “It also presents an opportunity,” Ketch continued. “If I’m working for him, I can pass information to you.”

“Oh, right,” Castiel snapped. “And you would do that, for us.”

“For everyone!” Ketch protested. Then he sighed. “I know you think I’m a monster,” he said.

“Because you are,” said Dean, and Ember firmly agreed.

“But even I must draw the line somewhere,” said Asmodeus. “And letting Lucifer free upon the earth? Well, as it turns out, that’s my line. Not to mention the whole Michael situation. I know you want to kill me. I know you can’t forgive me but if you think about it I’m the lesser of, well, at least three evils. All I ask is that you wait to murder me until after I prove useful. Hmm?”

Ember sighed, sharing a look of resignation with Dean, Sam, and Castiel.


	70. Good Intentions

***Ember POV***

March 1

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Days passed slowly. 

Now that Castiel had wings, he spent the majority of most days away from home, searching for Lucifer. He always came back at least once a day, in the evenings, to check on Ember and lay with her until she fell asleep.

Ember had slowly rebuilt her business, and now was working part-time. Some of the clients had resumed therapy from before Ember’s long sleep; a few were from before her pregnancy, even. Most of them were newer. In the process of seeking out new clients, Ember passed Dean and Sam a few leads to track down, to keep them busy as well.

Donatello, the prophet, had told them with certainty that he’d found evidence that the demon tablet did contain a spell to open a doorway to the other world, and he was busy translating it. There was hope, then, and Ember visited Donatello at least once a week. She even convened with Charlie to see if there was a way that the tablet could be decoded somehow by human or angel eyes. Unfortunately, the slab of stone remained intelligible only to Donatello, the current anointed prophet.

Arthur Ketch hadn’t contacted the group since their last meeting. And, despite Castiel’s best efforts, Lucifer remained in the wind. It was, then, a game of waiting – waiting on news from Ketch or from Castiel, and waiting on Donatello to finish with the tablet. 

Ember had never liked waiting, but she still felt guilty about the incident in Asmodeus’ jail. It had happened, she thought, because she became too impatient, too desperate. If she’d only waited, perhaps she and Castiel would have found another way out. Perhaps they’d have been able to rescue Jack already…

Therefore, Ember did her best to stay busy, either with her job or her children. At least this time they had a plan, and when they could, they would rescue Jack. 

“We taught him well,” said Castiel. “He knows how to use his powers, and how to fly, and he’s powerful enough to survive, even there.” But even Castiel’s words didn’t stop Ember’s worry.

Finally, Ember was in the middle of skyping with a client in Ontario when she felt the flutter of wings and swooping feeling that she had come to associate with flying. She was at first scared that she was being kidnapped, until she saw Castiel’s familiar trenchcoat and smelled the bunker’s reassuring odor of dusty books and polished tables.

“Donatello finished the translation,” Castiel provided, recognizing her look of disapproval at his lack of warning.

As it turned out, the spell to open the portal to the other world required “the hearts of Gog and Magog.”

“Um, they’re—they’re people. Kind of,” Donatello offered. “They’re sometimes referred to as brothers, other times lands. Uh… you know how Bibles are. Too damn many translations.”

“Wait, Gog and Magog?” asked Castiel thoughtfully. “I’d—I’d heard rumors, but I didn’t think they were human.”

“Good!” exclaimed Ember. “I’ve been wanting to fight with something that will put up a good fight!”

Sam, Dean, and Castiel all looked at her strangely.

“You sure you’re okay?” asked Sam delicately.

“Yes,” Ember said, sighing. “It’s just been too damn long of a wait.”

***Castiel POV***

March 1

Castiel was in love. He had learned, over the past almost year since his resurrection, what humans meant when they spoke of “feeling young again.” But it was more than that: this half-demon woman had given him back his wings, second only to his grace in importance and something he never thought he would have again. They were sleek and white again, like they had been even before his sojourn in Hell ten years ago. He would cherish Ember for all of her days, and when she finally passed… well, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

If there was any emotion that overwhelmed even his love for Ember, it was his pride for his son. He had been lucky enough to spend almost three months imparting his knowledge of the world to Jack. While this hadn’t been nearly enough time, it _had _been long enough for Castiel to teach Jack a solid basis in how to use his powers, how to defend himself, and even some strategy. 

Therefore, he wasn’t as worried about Jack as Ember was. Nothing short of possibly Michael himself could even hurt the boy. And while he was anxious for the time when they would next meet, Castiel felt confident that this time _would _come. He had faith in the Winchesters and faith in Ember.

Though things had changed for Castiel in the last 10 years, at his core he was still an angel, and still thousands of years old. With that age came knowledge, and foresight. The truth was that Castiel had a far greater worry even than his son, one that he hadn’t yet voiced to Ember and had only begun to voice to Dean. If Michael did return, he would certainly make war. Castiel knew that if this happened, he would take up the mantle of Commander of the angels, yet again. He was the obvious choice. He had won wars for angel-kind before, and he now was one of only two angels in this dimension with a proper set of wings. Of those two, he was by far the more trustworthy, and the one the others would be most likely to follow. Perhaps Michael would attempt to convert the angels from their dimension to his side. Castiel would fight this, just as he had with Raphael. There would be other angels, from Michael’s world, that still remembered God’s true message, as well.

Castiel wasn’t worried for himself as much as he was worried for his family, however. During the previous wars – the ones with Raphael, Metatron, and even before that – he had managed a certain amount of privacy in that he had barely involved the Winchesters. This time would be different, though, for several reasons. First, he and Ember were far more serious, and this time she would not be so easily pushed aside. Second, they had no hope of winning this war without Jack. Finally, there weren’t enough angels in Heaven anymore to mount a feasible defense against Michael. They would need the Winchesters, and all of Ember’s power, and even Lucifer, despite how much Castiel hated the idea.

The Winchesters and Ember knew nothing of war, however. They made decisions based on a code of ethics, a code which couldn’t be afforded in war, and Castiel knew this. How would they fare when they were truly faced with a situation in which humanity depended on the _greater good?_

The time to find out came sooner than Castiel had hoped. Gog and Magog had no hearts. They had been tricked… somehow. Worse, when Castiel, Ember, and Dean returned home from fighting the primordial beings, they found that Donatello had attacked Sam.

“We were prepping the spell and he just… snapped,” Sam explained, holding a cold compress to his head. Sam had gotten the better of Donatello, though, who was now in the dungeon. As they watched from a hidden camera, Donatello stomped around, mumbling in fast-paced Enochian.

“Donatello wanted them to kill us,” said Castiel. “He wants us dead.”

But why? _Why?_ It continued to puzzle Castiel as he and Ember watched the brothers confront Donatello in the dungeon. Donatello did some quick magic and almost got the better of Dean. At the last second, Castiel flew into the room and nullified the spell.

A few minutes later, they gathered in the kitchen. “Alright, what else do we know?” asked Dean. “Besides all work and no play makes Donatello a homicidal boy?”

“Maybe something in the tablet snapped him,” said Sam. He had just hung up from talking to Eileen on his tablet. She’d been called upon to hunt a banshee in Sweden, but would be back within the week.

“No, no,” Castiel said. “Prophets are conduits. Whatever’s in the tablets should just flow through them. I heard of one who was tempted once, but never fully corrupted.”

“It’s the _demon_ tablet,” Ember suggested. “Maybe it’s different.”

But Castiel shook his head again. “No, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Well, Kevin translated it, and it was hard on him, sure, but he—he never went full-on psycho,” said Dean.

“Okay, so what was different about Donatello?” asked Castiel.

Sam looked up suddenly. “He doesn’t have a soul.”

“_What_?” said Castiel, horrified. If that was the case, he never should have been translating the tablet. This was bad, this was very bad… 

Ember had put her head in her hands, and his concern was reflected in her brown eyes, peeking out at him from between her fingers.

“Is that bad?” Dean asked, and Ember gave a frustrated groan.

“Yes, that’s bad,” Castiel said. “Theoretically, the human soul would act as a filter inoculating the prophet against whatever darkness is in the tablet.”

“Alright. Um, well, how do we fix him?” asked Dean.

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t think we do,” he admitted.

“Okay. Hold on,” said Dean.

“We were so close!” said Sam. “We almost had it.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” asked Dean. 

“Our plan, Dean,” he answered. “The spell, get mom back. Donatello’s soul is gone. That’s not just something you come back from.”

“You did,” Dean fired back to Sam.

“Yeah, because you convinced Death to get my soul back from the cage, but Amara ate Donatello’s soul. There’s nothing to get back. It’s gone.”

Ember’s eyes had narrowed to slits. Castiel understood that she was waiting on him to make a move. “Donatello’s already corrupted,” he said. I… perhaps the kindest thing to do would be to end his suffering.”

Both brothers looked at him with surprise. “What?”

Castiel looked at Ember, a question in his eyes, and she nodded in return. “I don’t like it either,” he said. “But if Donatello’s life ends, then another prophet comes into being and they can finish the translation.”

“_If _he hasn’t already finished it,” Ember added. “He led us astray on purpose, but there’s no reason to believe he doesn’t _actually _know the real spell.”

“And if he doesn’t?” asked Dean. “You’re just gonna kill him?”

“It would be a mercy kill, Sam,” Ember spoke up. “He’s just as evil as any of the monsters you fight, and now he’s just as magical.”

“No!” said Sam, glaring at Ember. “No killing! We just need the spell!”

But Castiel shook his head. He looked at Ember one more time, and she gave him one last nod. “Fine,” he said. Then he flew into the room with Donatello, and bolted the door behind him.

“The spell to open the gate—you gave us the wrong ingredients,” Castiel accused.

“Duh,” said the prophet.

“But you know the right ones.”

“I might,” he said. “But like I told Sam and Dean, you’re wasting your time.”

Castiel took off his trench coat, feeling the return of the rush of being a Commander. “Well, I’m not Sam and Dean.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I am going to do something that I promised I would never do to a human being without their permission,” he admitted. “I’m gonna strip the spell from your mind.”

“You—you—you—you can’t!” Donatello said, his eyes growing wide. “I—I’ve absorbed too much power. Y-y-you’ll fry us both!”

“I might,” Castiel admitted, though he very much doubted it. He raised his hand and placed it on Donatello’s head. The man’s mind was like Ember’s now, in that he could feel the natural resistance that came from being at least part demon. He _was _corrupted, more even than Castiel had thought. His mind was much darker than Ember’s though, and twisted and turned in gruesome ways that Castiel did not want to follow. It reminded Castiel of Ember when her demon side had gained control.

“_Ardeat intus—…_” Donatello began, but Castiel covered his mouth to stop him from saying the spell.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you or anyone hurt the people I love,” he said. “Not again!” He could feel the rush between his fingers, and felt his angel power flow through the man’s mind. And then he had the answers, and Donatello’s mind went dead.

When he opened the door, he took in Sam and Dean’s shocked and appalled faces and Ember’s determined one. “Well, I know what we have to do,” he said, and marched out of the room. Ember followed him, while Sam and Dean ran inside to look over the prophet.

“Well?” Ember asked, running up behind him. “What do we have to do?”

“The spell is complicated,” said Castiel. “We don’t have the ingredients. It will take at least a week, most likely longer, to collect them, even with my wings. And we’ll need archangel grace, like we thought.”

Ember deflated visibly, throwing herself into his arms. “We’ll find them,” Castiel said. “I’ve told you, Jack’s fine. We’ve taught him enough that he’s fine.”

“I know,” she whispered, holding onto him. From somewhere behind them, they heard the sounds of Sam and Dean working hard to quickly heft Donatello’s body out of the bunker and to a place where they could call 9-1-1. There was shouting, and the unmistakable noise of the Impala.

“Okay,” said Ember, her eyes watery. “What ingredients to do we need?”

“Blood of a most holy man,” said Castiel. “That’ll be easy. It will take me a day or two at the most. A fruit from the Tree of Life will be more difficult. Last I heard, it was guarded by a pack of djinn in Syria. I’ll need your help with that one, probably.

“The Seal of Solomon… I don’t even know _where _we’d find that, and my magic won’t help me seek it out. That’ll be all research, I suppose. And the archangel grace.”

Ember heaved another sob, falling once more into his trenchcoat. When her sobs had subsided, she said, “I don’t suppose Donatello’s going to make it?”

“He’s alive,” Castiel answered. “His mind is not.”

“They won’t be happy,” Ember commented dully.

“And you?” he asked.

“I want my son back,” she said determinedly. “I don’t care what it takes.”

“And what about Michael?” he asked.

“What about Michael?” she asked, but she lifted her eyes, and a determined look was on her face.

“He’ll come through eventually,” Castiel admitted. “Lucifer was telling the truth, or at least he believes he is. All of those ingredients will be much more readily available on his side, where angels rule. Ember… it’ll mean war. For me… for you… for Jack. The decision I made today is one of many decisions that I’ll have to make – that _we’ll _have to make – to win a _war._ For the _greater good._ We can’t save everyone, or we’ll die trying for sure.”

Ember sighed, though she didn’t detangle herself from Castiel’s arms. “Cas,” she whispered. “I love you. And… I knew who you were when we started dating again.” She smiled, though it was a forced, watery smile. “Why do you think I gave you back the wings?”

***Ember POV***

March 8

“Blood of a most holy man” had been easy. Castiel had found a priest in the Vatican who had a reputation for being an outstanding citizen and taken some blood while the man had been asleep. The ease with which Castiel could now complete tasks like this thanks to his wings hadn’t played a part in Ember’s decision to forcibly use Lucifer’s power to remake them, but now she was more glad than ever that she’d done so. She shuddered to think about how long this simple task would have taken had he been human.

“Fruit from the Tree of Life” was a bit more complicated.

“How many are there?” Ember asked Castiel, staring from a distance at the Tree of Life.

“Twenty… one… I think,” said Castiel slowly.

“You _think?”_ asked Ember. It wasn’t like Castiel to be unsure.

“Their magic prevents me from knowing exactly,” he said. “And if we get close enough to see them, they’ll see us as well. But I’m pretty sure.”

Ember sighed. “How many can you take out at one time?”

“Djinn? Safely? With just angel powers, with one hit?” Castiel considered for a moment. “Maybe five or six.”

“Okay,” Ember said. “How many can _I _take out with one hit?”

Castiel considered again, looking lost in thought. “Without your powers, maybe one or two. With your powers that you have since my brother is still out of the box and filled up on grace… maybe four. If we’re lucky.”

“Well, that settles it then,” Ember said.

“What?” asked Castiel looking confused.

“We’ll duck in and grab the submachine guns and the assault rifles and go crazy while we’re invisible, and from the air. Djinn are only an issue if they touch you, and you said there’s no civilians around.”

Castiel looked surprised. “Well that… that would definitely make things easier. But…”

Ember raised her eyebrows. The angel looked petulant. “It’s the tree of _Life,”_ he finally said. “I don’t want to spray it with bullets.”

Ember gave him her best scathing look. “Okay, fine,” he said finally. “I’ll grab the guns from the Impala and I’ll be right back.”

***Castiel POV***

March 9, Evening

In the end, the machine guns had taken out most of the djinn. They were out of ammunition, however, and there were still eleven of them left. No, that was wrong, Castiel realized. Twelve. There were twelve left, but one was very weak.

“You have killed our king!” exclaimed one of the remaining djinn. It was a female – Castiel could tell from her breasts, even though her body was almost entirely blue and her hair was kept short. 

“I am Queen Raja,” said the djinn woman, stepping forward. “It has been our job for centuries to keep this tree safe from the humans. The magic of the Tree of Life and its fruit cannot be allowed to pass into the hands of humanity, or it will wreak havoc like has never been seen!”

Castiel had seen what happened when magic passed into the hands of humanity several times, and so he had to admit that Queen Raja actually had a point. He sighed. “I need the fruit for a spell. I am an Angel of the Lord.”

“We know this, of course,” said Queen Raja. “We are not savages. We can recognize an angel. We have tangled with them before, but not for an age. But today, you have killed our king,” she added. “So you must take his place. You must be our protector.”

Castiel stared at them, annoyed and irritated. He couldn’t kill all twelve of them, not without more ammunition. He needed to try to bargain with them. Queen Raja was right, too: humans could not come into possession of the Tree of Life. Still, Castiel refused to remain here to protect it.

“You do not have to stay here,” said Queen Raja, seeming to read Castiel’s mind. “You have maintained your wings, even despite the Fall.”

Castiel didn’t bother to correct her. “Even without your bullets, we cannot afford the casualties of your blades and knives if we continue to fight,” continued Queen Raja. “You want to leave from this place, and we need a protector. So this is the deal I propose. We do not like angels, however I think you will agree that you are the lesser of two evils. Therefore, agree to allow us to pray to you if we need aid, and agree that you will answer. Join hands with me and say a prayer of merging, and you may part from us with the fruit and your lives.”

Ember narrowed her eyes at him, taking his hand. “_I don’t care what prayer they want to say, say it and let’s get the damn fruit.”_

Castiel sighed. Despite the elevation of Ember’s powers caused by Lucifer being up and around, she still wasn’t as powerful as she had been when she’d been pregnant with Jack. He could read her thoughts, but she could no longer receive his. Therefore, he would have to chance saying them allowed. “Their magic will bind this agreement, and breaking it will mean death,” he hissed at her.

“Too right it will,” said the djinn woman. “Raise your hands.”

Castiel looked toward Ember for confirmation, and she nodded. He raised his hands into the air. “With this merge, you will take on the duties of protecting our tribe and the Tree of Life to the best of your ability should we pray for your help, or you will burn by the magic of the djinn.” She stared at him expectantly.

“I… do?” he said, unsure.

“I do,” the queen said, and she touched Castiel’s hand. There was a loud _POOF_ sound in the air, and for a second everything seemed to glow blue. “We are now married,” said the queen. “You may go on your way, so long as you come to our aid immediately if there is an issue.” Queen Raja held out a bag of fruit from the Tree of Life.

“Wha-married?” Castiel asked, looking alarmed at Ember.

“Come _on!” _she protested, grabbing the fruit and then grabbing Castiel’s hand.

A second later, they reappeared at the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The later part of this chapter will help explain Castiel's lines at the beginning of the Scoobynatural episode. Similar to "naked, covered in bees", this simply needed a story to add more context.


	71. Scoobynatural

***Ember POV***  
  


March 9, Night

“Sam? Dean?” Castiel yelled, walking down the stairs. “We’re back from Syria with fruit from the Tree of Life. The tree was guarded by a pack of djinn.”

Sam and Dean were nowhere to be found, however. There was a glowing light coming from a room that had previously been a spare bedroom, and they headed that direction. “I killed most of them, bargained with the rest,” Castiel continued. “Think I'm... technically married to their queen now. Hello? Sam?”

They walked into the spare room, where Ember found a pool table, a bar, and a large TV which was playing “Scooby-Doo.” She rolled her eyes. “He always said he wanted to make a ‘Dean Cave’, but I didn’t think he’d ever actually-…”

“Ember, look!” Castiel exclaimed, staring at the TV.

“It’s ‘Scooby-Doo,’ Cas,” Ember said, looking finally at the television. “You’ve seen it loads of-…”

But there, on the screen, was the Impala, and Dean’s voice: “I don’t know, Freddie. I’m not sure Baby can go that slow.”

“Dean?” asked Castiel and Ember at the same time.

“Well, the Mystery Machine is a lot faster than it looks,” said Fred on the television.

“Oh, yeah?” said Dean. “Well, let's see who can get there first. Or are you...chicken?”

“What in the _hell?_” said Ember. Dean and Sam were both cartoons inside the “Scooby-Doo” episode.

“Well, I'm game if you are,” said Fred.

The television began to flicker with purple light. Suddenly there was a jerk behind Ember’s navel. 

She fell hard onto the ground. When she looked up, she saw the Impala (animated) drive off down an abandoned street, right behind the Mystery Machine. 

Then a pair of concerned (animated) blue eyes leaned over her. 

“Your vessel has changed,” said Castiel’s voice. “I must say, I prefer the other one.”

Ember looked at her hands, which were animated. “You have _got_ to be _kidding_ me,” she said. “We _finally_ got the stupid fruit. And then we’re turned into _cartoon_ characters?!” She grabbed the angel’s hand awkwardly, surprised that it felt the same as always. Together, they began walking down the street in the general direction that the Impala had taken.

“I, however, like this vessel, for me,” Castiel said conversationally as he fell into step beside her. “It seems simpler somehow.”

“Yeah?” Ember said, raising her eyebrows at him. “Well, just so you know, we can’t have sex as cartoon characters, Cas,” she snapped, bad-tempered. 

“Oh,” he said. Then he tilted his head and gave her a side-long glance. “Why not?”

“Because it’s ‘Scooby-Doo!’ They don’t have sex on ‘Scooby-Doo!’”

“Oh,” Cas said again. 

They fell into silence for awhile. Then Ember stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to her. “Oh my _God_,” she said, grinning suddenly. “Dean has always _loved_ ‘Scooby-Do.’ We used to watch it together. And he wouldn’t admit it, but he always had this _major _crush on Daphne, and he _hated _Fred…”

“Who?” Castiel asked.

“There’s, uh, the Scooby gang,” Ember explained. “Fred, Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and the dog, Scooby. They solve mysteries, and fight the supernatural. Like us, except with them it never _actually _turns out to be supernatural, just some evil person trying to pretend to be a ghost to make money somehow.”

Ember laughed, her bad mood beginning to lift. She was in “_Scooby-Doo_!” It had always been her favorite animated TV show. She vaguely remembered watching it with Aidan, Josephine, and Castiel early one Saturday morning four years ago, when they’d first been together. She and Dean had watched it together occasionally before that. It was the only thing they had ever been able to agree to watch on television, because Dean had always preferred movies with lots of men and guns or westerns, and Ember had preferred dramas or comedies.

Finally, they approached a large house. The Impala was parked out front. “Wait a sec,” said Ember. “This is the haunted house from, uh…’A Night of Fright is no Delight.’”

“What?” Castiel asked, trying the door. It was locked, so they began to knock.

“It’s the episode we’re in. Scooby and four or five other people receive equal shares of this haunted mansion in a will,” Ember explained. 

“No answer,” said Castiel, knocking again.

“But in order to claim their share, they all have to make it through the night. The lawyer, Cosgood Creeps, is trying to make people think there’s a ghost in the house so they’ll forfeit their share and he can keep the money.”

“So we should just confront the lawyer,” Castiel said.

“If Dean hasn’t already ripped him a new one,” added Ember. “C’mon, nobody’s coming to the door. Let’s see if we can get in through the window.”

There was a big picture window on the side of the house, which was already beginning to swing open because of the wind. Castiel pulled the latch, and they had just walked inside when Ember felt herself lifted off of her feet, covered in blackness.

“Not today, freak!” she heard Dean yell, and she began to scream and use her force powers to attempt to throw off the blackness. It was mildly effective – the blackness in front of her billowed out, and she heard someone scream, but the blackness behind her pushed her forward, and she went toppling over.

Suddenly she could see again. She realized that Sam had attempted to trap her in the curtains, a feat which had been made more effective by her own force powers. “Ember?” he asked, helping her up.

“Cas?” Dean asked from somewhere behind her.

“Like, you know this guy?” said Shaggy’s voice.

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” said Sam. “They’re friends of ours.”

“Neato!” said Daphne.

Dean gave her a wide smile. “Dean, _no,” _said Ember, looking in Daphne’s direction.

“Castiel, Ember, meet the Scooby Gang,” said Dean, ignoring Ember.

“Castiel?” asked Shaggy. “It sounds like a great Italian pizza place.”

“Uh, it's a pleasure to meet you,” said Castiel awkwardly, sticking out his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” agreed Ember, leaning down and petting Scooby on the head.

“Nice to meet you, too,” said Scooby.

“Sam, Dean... this dog is talking.”

Ember rolled her eyes. She would’ve asked how Castiel had missed this detail during the morning that he’d watched “Scooby Doo” with the kids, but now that she’d thought about it, he’d been eyeing her for most of the episode…

“Yep,” Dean said with another sideways glance at Daphne.

“How did you guys get here?” asked Sam.

Ember and Castiel explained the story to the brothers. “You saw purple sparks?” Sam asked when they had finished. “Dean, that's like with the killer stuffed dinosaur. And they were both in that pawn shop. Maybe this is all connected.”

“Um, ‘killer stuffed dinosaur?’” asked Velma skeptically, coming up behind the four of them.

“Oh, I-I didn't mean a real...” started Sam.

“It's a book we're writing,” said Dean. “Yeah, about...killer stuffed dinosaurs. It's called-…” He trailed off, looking at Castiel for help.

"The Killer Stuffed Dinosaur in Love,” said Castiel, shrugging. 

Castiel caught her eye and raised an eyebrow in her direction, which Ember understood was his way of asking her opinion on what Sam and Dean had said. 

“_They think it’s a cursed item,” _she said, taking his hand. _“I think. The TV, and the purple sparks…”_

Castiel nodded that he had gotten the message.

“Well, if he isn't responsible for Cousin Simple's death, who is?” asked Fred from across the room.

“Wait, Cousin Simple’s _death_?” asked Ember, alarmed.

“Yes!” exclaimed Velma. “We found him just a minute ago!”

Ember looked at Dean, who nodded and shot her a serious look.

“_This is bad,”_ Ember said to Castiel. “_Cousin Simple didn’t die in this episode… something’s wrong. This started off as a regular episode of ‘Scooby Doo’, but it’s changed somehow. Maybe because we’re here.”_

Castiel nodded back again to show that he had heard.

Suddenly, the lights started to flicker on and off. “Huh?’ said Scooby.

“Like, somebody turn up the heat in here, man. It's getting cold,” said Shaggy.

A menacing roar was heard in the distance, and Ember drew closer to Castiel.

Velma lit an oil lamp, and Sam and Dean brought out their flashlights. Carefully, the group walked through the hallways of the mansion.

“Dean,” Ember whispered, drawing closer to her ex. “What the hell is going on?”

“Not sure,” whispered Dean. “But I’m not letting the Scooby Gang fall victim to whatever we brought with us when we came through the TV. We’re gonna find it, and kill it, and then go back through, and they’re still gonna think it was a shady realtor.”

“Agreed,” Ember hissed. “And Daphne?”

Dean turned to look at Ember with an innocent grin. “What about her?”

“_Dean.”_

“C’mon, this is a chance of a lifetime!” Dean hissed, shrugging.

“To what? Impregnate a cartoon character? Do they even have condoms here?”

“It’s not like that!” Dean insisted, throwing up his hands. “And shut up, she’ll hear you!”

Ember rolled her eyes but obediently hung back next to Castiel. 

Suddenly, the group spotted a handprint on the glass. A cold chill passed through the house, and the doors in the hallway slammed shut. Then a ghost materialized, a large, hooded figure with yellow eyes and a large, gaping mouth.

“Ph-ph-ph-phantom!” shouted Shaggy, and Scooby howled. Both of them jumped into Castiel’s arms, who looked at them with surprise. Fred attempted to catch the ghost but caught air. The ghost swiped at Dean but missed, leaving long claw marks on the wall.

As quickly as it had come, the ghost was gone again. The lights flickered back on, and Castiel dropped Scooby and Shaggy to the floor. 

“Whatever it was, it's gone now,” said Fred. He pointed to an open door. “It looks like he was coming out of here.”

Fred opened the door, and the gang backed up in shock. Inside was the body of the realtor, Cosgood Creeps. His head was on the floor, surrounded by (still animated) blood.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The group decided to split up, to look for clues. “I call team-up with Daphne!” shouted Dean.

“Great!” said Fred. “It’ll be just the three of us.”

“Sam and I will check the attic!” said Velma. “I mean… unless you’re too scared,” she added to Sam. 

“What?” Sam asked, surprised. “N-no, I-I'm...Let's check the attic.”

“Like, man, I guess that leaves me and old Scoob with you, Castiel, and Ember,” said Shaggy.

“Wonderful,” said the angel. “I once led armies, and now we’re paired with a scruffy Philistine and a talking dog.”

“Actually, I’m gonna go invisible and double back around to Dean and Daphne,” Ember whispered apologetically to Castiel.

“Why?” asked the angel. 

“Because,” whispered Ember. “We’re in a _cartoon_ that somehow has gone horribly off the rails. I don’t know much about how alternate universes work, but I know you can’t just waltz into one and disrupt the status quo. We can’t let whatever we brought with us hurt them. I mean, Cosgood Creeps, the realtor? He was supposed to be the _villain._ He wasn’t supposed to die. Something is _seriously _wrong here.”

Ember looked at Castiel intently. “Meanwhile, Dean’s trying to make a play for Daphne. You can handle Shaggy and Scooby, just let me handle Dean.”

Castiel let out a long-suffering sigh, but nodded. They kissed each other good-bye, and Ember waited until Shaggy and Scooby weren’t looking to turn invisible and double back to find Dean, Fred, and Daphne.

“So, Daph, I usually don't have to do this, but what do you look for in a guy?” Dean was saying when Ember caught up to him.

“Oh, I don't know,” Daphne replied. “Strong, sincere, and an ascot wouldn't hurt.”

Ember chuckled softly.

“Whoa, hold on,” said Dean, pointing to a book on the shelves in the library. “Check out that book.”

“There are a lot of books in here, Dean,” said Fred.

“No, that one,” replied Dean, pointing at a tan one. “The one that isn't painted into the background of the car--Library. The...library.” Dean pulled on the book, but nothing happened.

“Huh. Sorry,” he said. “I thought it might be some kind of secret passage or-…”

Suddenly, the floor opened up, and Dean, Fred, and Daphne went hurtling down a slide. Ember dove in behind them.

The end of the slide was dark. Just as Ember stood up, she heard Dean say, “Daphne, you okay? Maybe I should just give you a once-over to make sure.”

The light came on just then, and Ember instinctively closed her eyes until they adjusted. What she saw made her guffaw allowed. Dean had his hand on the ghosts’ bony thigh, while Daphne and Fred were on the other side of the hallway.

“AHHH!” Dean yelled, wrenching his hand away. “Oh, hell no!”

As a group, the four of them ran. 

Two hallways down, however, Ember collided with a giant, solid shape. “Ember?” asked Cas’ voice.

Then, once again, the ghost materialized in front of the group of them. As one, the group ran into the nearest room, and Ember took her chance to become visible when no one else was looking.

“We have to stop this ghost,” exclaimed Fred.

“We almost did,” said Daphne. “Dean had him by the thigh.”

Ember chuckled. 

“He what?” asked Velma.

“I almost caught him,” said Dean gruffly. “That's the point.”

“Guys, come on,” said Velma. “For the last time, there's no such thing as ghosts.”

Just as she said this, however, Velma’s glasses appeared to frost over. Ember could feel the chill in the air as well, and the lights flickered.

Suddenly, the ghost materialized again, huge and hooded with yellow eyes.

“That costume looks really...real,” Velma admitted.

Several things happened in quick succession. Fred launched himself toward the ghost but was thrown across the room, hitting a sculpture. Daphne and Velma were levitated off the floor, then pinned against the wall. Shaggy attempted to run, but was instead thrown through the window.

Ember and Castiel scrambled to look for iron, but Sam and Dean found it first; they grabbed two candle holders and hit the ghost with them. Purple sparks shot out of the ghosts’ back where the candles had hit, and the ghost shrieked in pain and disappeared.

The lights came back, and Daphne and Velma fell off of the wall and into Dean’s and Sam’s arms.

“Where's Shaggy?” asked Scooby.

“Over here!” came a yell from the window.

As one, the group of them looked toward the window. Shaggy was hanging from a metal beam from the balcony. The beam swayed precariously back and forth.

“Like, little help?” Shaggy yelled, panic in his eyes. 

But then the beam gave way, and Shaggy fell toward the ground. 

“Shaggy!” yelled Scooby, and he jumped out the window as well.

“Scooby!” yelled Castiel, and he followed the two of them down what must’ve been a 20-foot drop. Miraculously, Castiel was able to grab Scooby’s tail. His coat billowed out to make a makeshift parachute, slowing their descent as they crashed through a tree to the ground. Ember also used her force powers to slow their descent, but it was difficult to get a clear shot with the tree in the way. Even with Castiel’s help and Ember’s powers, Shaggy landed awkwardly on his arm and gave a loud scream.

The gang ran outside. “It appears his arm is broken,” said Castiel, straightening up after investigating Shaggy.

“What?” said Shaggy, surprised. “That's not -- I have jumped out of a biplane in a museum and was fine! How did this happen?!”

Ember, Castiel, Sam, and Dean shot each other a significant look.

“I-I don't know,” Fred said. “I... Something threw me across the room.”

“Wires,” Velma said unconvincingly. “Probably just wires.”

“Like, hello!” shouted Shaggy. “Broken arm here!”

“Shaggy, brace yourself,” said Velma, making a make-shift brace.

“Fred, give me your ascot,” said Daphne, and she used it to make a sling.

“Dean, we have to tell them the truth,” said Sam frankly. 

“What truth?” asked Daphne as she finished tying the sling.

“The truth about the phantom,” said Sam resolutely.

“Look,” Dean began. “This phantom isn't like other ghosts you've faced. He's real. He is a real ghost.”

They didn’t take the news well. “I thought I was blind without my glasses,” said Velma. “But I was just blind. Oh, how could I be so stupid?”

“You’re not!” Ember protested, walking over to Velma. “You’ve worked with some of the worst bits of humanity, and that can be way more difficult than hunting vampires and-…”

“We've been stopping real estate developers when we could've been hunting Dracula?” Fred exclaimed, banging his head against a tree. “Are you kidding me?! My life is meaningless!”

“If there are ghosts... that means there's an afterlife,” exclaimed Daphne. “Heaven! Hell! Am I going to Hell?!”

“We told you every freaking time!” exclaimed Shaggy. “But did you ever listen to Scoob and me? No!”

“We're doomed,” said Scooby.

“All right, knock it off!” exclaimed Dean. “Come on! The Scooby Gang does not have nervous breakdowns. Now you may not have tangled with the supernatural, but you've fought monsters, real freakin' psychos. Well, you stopped Zeke and Zeb. Shaggy figured out that the sharks Old Iron Face were really just torpedoes disguised to look like sharks. And what about the Black Knight?”

“Mamba Wamba?” added Ember.

“The Space Kook,” filled in Sam.

Dean laughed at his brother. “I knew it! You love this show, too,” he whispered. 

“Space Kook, Ghost Clown, Miner 49er,” Dean continued, throwing a fist in the air. “You guys have all jumped into danger with no thought for yourselves. You're heroes, and together, we're gonna take down this phantom. Are you with me?”

The Scooby gang, once again motivated, raised their fists in the air.

And so they did.

Fred attempted to trap the ghost, but only managed to trap Castiel, Shaggy, and Scooby in a washing machine. Meanwhile the ghost chased the brothers into the library, giving Scooby and Shaggy a chance to escape. When the ghost was positioned correctly, Scooby opened the door to the secret passageway, and the ghost slid down into a salt circle that the brothers had made at the bottom. The Scooby gang hung back in an adjacent room at Dean’s insistence so that the brothers could speak to it.

“Let...me...go!” it screamed.

“Happy to, Sparky, soon as you tell us who you really are,” challeged Dean.

The ghost tried several more times to escape, but finally it collapsed to the floor, morphing into a small red-headed boy. The small boy explained that his soul had been tied to a pocket knife. The pocket knife was found by a man named Jay, who had used him to get revenge on people he wanted to hurt.

“I'm sorry,” Castiel said. “It was wrong of him to do that.”

Ember took Castiel’s hand again. Being in the “Scooby Doo” world had been fun, but Ember wanted to go back and find their son. The small boy’s naiveté was a sharp reminder of Jack.

“None of this was your fault,” said Sam to the boy.

“Look, if you get us back to the real world, we can set you free,” said Dean, and Ember smiled at him.

“Do you promise?” he asked.

“Cross my heart and hope to d-- Well, you know what I mean,” said Dean.

Together, Ember and Dean peeked into the room where the Scooby Gang waited.

“Should I - should I make another trap?” Fred asked.

“I could get the shotgun!” yelled Velma.

“I could get two shotguns!” added Daphne.

“Like, tell Scoob and me when it's over!” yelled Shaggy, and Scooby agreed.

“Okay, okay, hey, give me a minute,” said Dean. He turned to the rest of the group. “We can't leave 'em like this,” he whispered to Ember.

“I agree,” she whispered. She smiled at him. “Sorry about Daphne,” she added.

“A, No you’re not,” whispered Dean. “And B, we’re not back home yet.” He winked.

The two of them turned back to the ghost. “Kid, we need a favor.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“Did you send it back to the fiery pit from whence it came?!” yelled Fred when the four of them returned to where the Scooby gang was waiting.

“Look, everything's under control,” said Sam. He allowed them to enter the room with the ghost, which was currently under a blanket and tied with a rope.

“Aah!” they shouted. “Kill it with fire!”

“Whoa!” said Dean. “Slow your roll, guys. We were wrong.”

“What -- what are you -- what are you saying?” asked Daphne.

“Velma...w-was right,” said Sam. He gave a sidelong look at Dean, and Ember could tell that it was costing his pride to say it.

“Like, she was?” asked Shaggy.

“The ghost wasn’t real,” said Ember, taking over for Sam. “Look. But you knew it all along, didn’t you Velma?”

“I, uh...I don't know,” said Velma uncertainly.

“Hey, guys, do your thing,” Dean said, beckoning them toward the shaking ghost in the bag. 

“This is my favorite part!” he whispered to Ember, and she smiled.

Velma and Fred walked over to the ghost, and Velma pulled off the large bag.

“Cosgood Creeps?!” they all shouted.

“But...the flying!” said Daphne.

“Wires,” Sam explained hastily.

"What about the walking through the walls?” Shaggy asked. “And the bodies?”

“Well, that was just a projector,” said Ember. “As for the bodies...” She looked at Dean helplessly.

“Were they...dummies filled with corn syrup?” asked Velma.

“Exactly,” Sam said, smiling at her.

“Of course!” said Fred enthusiastically. “Cosgood was trying to drive everyone from the house so he could get the money for himself.”

“Right,” said Dean. “But the joke is on him because the money's worthless.” Dean opened a suitcase filled with money, which he had found exactly where it had been placed in the actual episode. “It's all Confederate dollars,” he explained.

“Aw!” said Scooby. “Oh, well. Easy come easy go.”

“Only in cartoons,” Ember whispered to Dean.

“Shhhh!” he said, staring at Daphne.

“What about my arm?” Shaggy asked.

Castiel put his hand on Shaggy’s shoulder, and Ember knew he was healing him. “Try it again,” said Castiel in his deep voice, taking Ember’s other hand.

“Ok, but… hey, that’s weird,” said Shaggy. “It _does_ feel better. Don’t think it was really broken after all.”

“This is great news!” said Fred. “Let's meet at the malt shop and celebrate.”

“Do they ever sleep?” Ember whispered to Sam as Dean grabbed Daphne’s hand.

“Cartoons,” he whispered back, and walked over to say goodbye to Velma.

“So, uh...I guess this is it,” Ember heard Dean saying to Daphne.

“This is what?” asked Daphne.

Dean placed his open hand on Daphne’s mouth. “Shh.. No words. We'll never know what could've been,” he said.

But Daphne only had eyes for Fred, who was walking out of the room. “Freddy, wait for me!” she yelled.

Dean looked at Ember and shrugged. “Had to try,” he explained. “You know.”

Ember chuckled, turning to where Castiel was hugging Shaggy and Scooby. “You've shown me the great strength of laughter in the face of danger,” he was saying.

“Danger?! Where?! Let's get out of here, man,” they both said, running away. 

Ember laughed again. “I didn’t even get to say good-bye,” she said, frowning, and Dean shrugged. 

“I’m still here,” said Velma, stepping forward. “And it was wonderful to meet you. Thanks for your help.”

“You too,” Ember said.

“Great working with you, Velma,” said Sam.

“You, too, Sam,” she said. Then, to everyone’s surprise, she kissed him.

Sam seemed to struggle for air for a second, but then she let him go and walked away triumphantly. “Those shoulders. Jinkies!”

Sam looked mournfully at Ember and Castiel. “What am I supposed to tell Eileen?” he hissed.

“That you got kissed by a cartoon character,” said Ember, laughing. “And Dean didn’t.”

Dean chuckled. “Shoulda known Velma was good to go. Gah! It's always the quiet ones.”

Together, the group walked back to the ghost, currently in the form of Cosgood Creeps. “We’re ready,” said Castiel.

Suddenly, the surroundings morphed and they were, once again, standing in the “Dean Cave”. On the floor was a smattering of abandoned fruit from the Tree of Life, where Castiel had dropped it when they had been sucked in to the TV.

All of them stared at each other in shock.

“Okay,” Sam said finally. “That was...something,”

“That was the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. And that includes the Cartwright twins,” exclaimed Dean.

“What did you do with the Cartwright twins?” asked Castiel as Dean excused himself to get utensils to burn the pocket knife.

“I don't think I wanna know,” said Sam.

“I’ll show you later,” Ember whispered to Castiel.

“I heard that!” said Sam, and Ember blushed.

When Dean returned, he was carrying a blowtorch and a sledgehammer. Regretfully, he smashed the television, pulling a pocket knife from the remains. The ghost of the red-headed boy, no longer animated, appeared suddenly next to Ember.

“Time to go, kid,” said Dean.

“What about the bad man?” the boy asked.

“Don't worry about him,” said Sam. “We'll take care of him, all right?”

Sam placed the knife on a metal tray and began burning it with the blowtorch. The ghost boy smiled at Ember, then disappeared.

***Ember POV***

March 10, Early Morning

Eileen had been waiting for Sam in the kitchen, frantically attempting to video-call his phone. In his haste, Sam talked quickly and forgot, despite his usual sensitivity to it, that Eileen needed to be able to see him to lip-read.

“Slow down,” Eileen said. “You were facing away for half of that. Are you trying to tell me you were watching ‘Scooby Doo’ this whole time?”

Sam took Eileen into another room to discuss the kiss, and a few minutes later Ember, Dean, and Castiel heard loud peals of laughter. 

“I guess the wedding is still on then,” said Dean, passing a beer to Ember and Castiel.

“You’ll take care of the ‘bad man’ in the morning?” Ember asked Dean, holding up air quotes.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, it shouldn’t take long.”

Ember nodded back, and the three of them sat down, sipping celebratory beers.

“You know, it was kind of fun, being animated,” said Dean as Sam entered with Eileen.

“Yeah,” Ember agreed. “Shame about that ghost kid.”

“We could’ve gone to _any _animated shows,” Dean agreed.

Ember nodded, thinking along the same wavelength. “‘Family Guy’… ‘Little Mermaid’… ‘Frozen!’”

“Animated porn,” Dean said, smiling, and they all rolled their eyes.


	72. The Thing, Bring 'Em Back Alive

***Ember POV***

April 5, Noon

**ONE MONTH LATER**

The group had found Blood of a Most Holy Man and fruit from the Tree of Life, but they lacked both the Key of Solomon and archangel grace.

A month after they had successfully returned from inside the television, they were no closer to finding either of these last two ingredients, despite looking everywhere they could think of. Sam and Dean, Ember knew, had spent the last few weeks scouring both the library and the bunker for new information, with no results. Dean in particular whined constantly about how he was tired of reading, tired of the lore, and needed to kill something.

Castiel had focused more on demonic and Enochian lore, as he was the only one of the four of them able to completely translate the old languages. He was slowly teaching Krissy, who seemed to have a knack for them. Even a mention of the Key of Solomon in the lore was rare, however, and the group was feeling increasingly defeated.

Finally, on April 5th, Ember’s phone rang.

“Hey, Cas isn’t answering his phone,” came Dean’s voice into the receiver.

Ember rolled her eyes, though Dean couldn’t see her. “He’s airborn I think, searching for Lucifer again. Give it a minute.” 

“Okay,” said Dean. “Anyway, when he gets back, you should know, we’ve got it!”

“Got it? What do you mean you’ve got it?” Ember asked excitedly.

“Well, yesterday Sam and I chased a lead in Rhode Island, and we found it! We’ve got the Key of Solomon! You don’t need to come. We still don’t have archangel grace. But, I figured I’d let you know.”

“We’ll be over in a few,” Ember said.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Twenty minutes later, Ember, Castiel, Dean, Sam, Eileen, and Jo, who had just come to visit, were spread around the table in the bunker’s situation room. Sam and Dean were excitedly recalling the story of how they had obtained the Key of Solomon. 

Dean explained that it included tentacle monsters, but Ember wasn’t sure if she entirely believed him. “A giant tentacle monster named Yokoth possessing a beautiful woman?” she scoffed. “Seriously Dean? For the millionth time, this is _real life_, not porn!”

Jo laughed, eyeing Ember warily. Ember thought that there was something going on between Jo and Dean, but she had the impression that neither of them was quite sure yet what it was. It occurred to Ember that perhaps Jo still thought of her as a romantic rival.

“I swear!” Dean complained. “There were two of them, Yokoth and-…”

Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door.

“Let me in!” yelled Arthur Ketch’s voice.

As one, Ember, Sam, Dean, Eileen, and Jo ran upstairs to the entrance, and Castiel met them there. All of them wielded a weapon of some sort.

“Let me in!” said Ketch. “Please. I come in peace.”

“Yeah, right,” said Sam, and Eileen scoffed.

“And I brought a gift,” Ketch added. He ducked behind him and pulled out someone that Ember never thought she would see again.

***Castiel POV***

April 5, Noon

“Gabriel?” Castiel said, looking shocked. His brother, though immediately recognizable, looked horrible. He was dirty, and bloody, and his face was devoid of the jovial light Castiel had always known. His mouth was sewn shut.

Still, Castiel’s eyes feasted on his brother. His favorite brother. He remembered so many jokes on calm afternoons with his garrison. He remembered Domiel. He thought of things he hadn’t thought of in years.

He rushed toward his brother, but Gabriel reeled back. Castiel wasn’t even sure that his older brother recognized him. “Come inside!” Castiel said hurriedly, as Gabriel showed signs of running away.

“Thank you,” said Ketch, tugging Gabriel along. 

“No, no, that’s impossible,” Sam was saying. “He…he’s dead. We -- we saw him die.”

“What’d you do to him?” snapped Castiel at Ketch, taking his shell-shocked brother from the other man. 

“Not me,” said Ketch. “Asmodeus. The Prince was holding him prisoner until I liberated the poor man.”

Of _course!_ The angel Castiel had passed in the jail… had been _Gabriel?_ But his brother was so _weak…_

“And I understand you may need an archangel for a spell, perhaps,” said Ketch. “Well, what luck.”

“We need his grace,” said Sam.

Suddenly Gabriel began to make such a racket in protest that Castiel almost lost his grip on the older angels’ tattered clothes. “Brother!” Castiel cried. “Brother, it’s okay!” With a significant effort, he finally managed to maneuver Gabriel into a chair in the living room.

Ketch reached into his jacket and pulled out a vial of grace. “Asmodeus has been storing these and injecting them,” he explained. “Take this one. And…” Ketch put a long blade on the table. “The archangel blade.”

Castiel looked up from Gabriel in shock. “Are you sure… I didn’t even know that really _existed_,” he said in wonder. 

Ketch shrugged. “Asmodeus seems to think it’s the real thing,” he said.

Ketch went on to explain that in return for his help rescuing Gabriel, he was hoping to remain at the bunker so that its warding could help protect him from Asmodeus. There was some argument between the brothers, Eileen, and Ember about whether or not this was wise, but ultimately they allowed Ketch to stay.

Meanwhile, Castiel attempted to heal Gabriel to the best of his ability, but the damage had been too severe over too long a time for him to do much good.

“Gabriel… Man, what happened to you?” Sam asked as he cut the strings on Gabriel’s mouth.

Before the angel could answer, however, Dean came into the room carrying a bowl and a handful of spell ingredients. Ember was at his heels, looking determined and ready. Castiel realized that in the shock of his favorite brothers’ return (and injuries), he had almost forgotten that now they had all the ingredients to open the rift.

“All right, let’s do this,” said Dean.

“Well, shouldn’t we wait?” Sam asked, shooting a surprised look at Eileen and then at Castiel.

“Wait? Why?” Dean asked. “We got everything we need. Everything else is just burning daylight. Come on. Let’s open this door.”

“But… Gabriel,” protested Castiel. “Someone needs to be here to keep an eye on him.”

“Okay,” Sam agreed. “You’ll need to stay, then, Cas. And you too, Eileen.”

Dean shook his head. “I’m heading in alone,” he said.

“What?” said Sam, looking shocked.

“The hell you are!” Ember added.

“If Asmodeus comes to call, we’ll need more than just Cas,” said Dean. “You all need to stay here.”

Sam, Eileen, and Ember both opened their mouths to speak, but Jo chimed in instead. “Hell no! I’m going with you, Dean. I didn’t come here to be left behind.”

Jo’s eyes were narrowed, and Castiel could tell that the woman would follow Dean whether he liked it or not.

Ketch walked into the room then, dressed for combat and carrying his bag. “And I’m coming with you, too,” he said. “As I said, Asmodeus will be hunting me to the ends of the earth, so it’s better if I’m not on this Earth.”

Ember looked at Castiel, and the angel knew what she was planning even before she said it. “I’m going with you too, Dean,” she said. “I… I’m sorry,” she added, looking at Dean and Jo. “But I’m going to find my son.”

Dean looked livid, and Jo also looked a bit put out. Perhaps Ember was right, and they had a “thing on the side.”

“I’m sorry,” Ember repeated, more quietly. “But I’ll be more valuable there than here, anyway. Low-level angels still can’t see me. I’m good for the mission, for scouting.” 

It was decided, then. Castiel didn’t like it, but he knew Ember was right: they needed her with them, and he needed to stay with his brother.

A few minutes later, the spell was ready. Castiel abandoned a statuesque Gabriel long enough to pull Ember into the other room and kiss her thoroughly.

“I’ll be back, Cas,” she said, but her face told him she was afraid.

“You’d better be,” he told her.

It was time to go. “Koth munto notox,” said Sam, holding the Key of Solomon over the bowl containing the rest of the ingredients. “Koth. Munto. Notox.”

Before their eyes, the air seemed to split, and a rift formed in the middle of the living room. Ember smiled grimly.

Dean checked his watch, grabbed his bag, then put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, giving his brother a significant look. “Okay,” he said, and walked through the rift. Jo went after him, then Ketch, and finally Ember. She blew Castiel a kiss as she walked through, and the rift flashed as they entered.

***Jo Harvelle POV***

April 6, Early Morning

Jo hadn’t seen Ember in nearly a decade. They’d only met a few times during the Apocalypse, when the older woman had been dating Dean, before Jo’s time in Greece. The vision cemented into Jo’s head had been of a strong and powerful woman fighting hellhounds outside an abandoned hardware store. That woman had seemed both too powerful for Dean and also somehow not strong _enough_. Her powers had been overwhelming and the fact that she was half-demon had been a lot for Jo to swallow. At the same time, she had also seemed somehow too breakable, as though the life of a hunter didn’t entirely fit her. 

It was like when the popular boy at school goes out with the head cheerleader. Jo had always envied the attention that the head cheerleader got from the popular boys, but also relished in the fact that if she’d wanted to, she could’ve beat them to a pulp.

When Ember had entered the bunker, however, it occurred to Jo for the first time that perhaps her impression of this woman, or at least this woman’s place in Dean’s life, was entirely wrong. Ember was softer, now – older, more tired-looking, and her hair was longer. She moved around the angel Castiel as though he was her world, and vice versa, Jo realized. Though they never actually touched, they seemed glued together at the hip, and there was a chemistry between them that was both obvious and unbreakable. Jo had heard from other hunters, though never directly from Dean, that Ember had left Dean for the angel. At the time Jo had been angry on Dean’s behalf, but now, watching them, she couldn’t find anything malicious or treasonous about their relationship.

The biggest surprise was Dean. After Dean’s comment the previous November (“Well, would’ve been nice to have Cas and Ember”), Jo had assumed that he was still in love with the half-demon woman. She had learned later that Ember had been permanently asleep at the time and Castiel had been rushing to save her. Still, Jo hadn’t doubted that Dean was still in love with the half-demon woman. Now, for the first time, Jo began to wonder whether she had read too much into Dean’s comment. 

Dean seemed completely independent from the chemistry that was the Ember-and-Castiel coupling. Perhaps there had been a time when Dean had been jealous of his ex-girlfriend and his best friend, but this no longer seemed to be the case. He looked at Ember the same way he looked at Castiel or Sam – like family. He looked at Jo differently. Like… like a _girlfriend._

Jo had seen Dean only twice since they’d first slept together – once over Christmas, and once in late February when she’d happened to be nearby. Both times they had spent a night or two together and had had truly fantastic sex, but that had been it. They hadn’t talked to each other in between, except for the occasional rare text. Still, Dean occupied Jo’s mind far more than she was willing to admit.

The previous day, she had wondered nearby again en route to a case in California. Instead of the night of sex she had expected, however, she had been pulled into a case with far higher stakes in another universe.

Dean, Arthur Ketch, Ember, and Jo took care traversing the Apocalypse World. The terrain was rough and snowy, and there were dangers around every corner. There was mostly silence, and the only sound was Dean and Ketch’s occasional arguing. Dean also seemed overly fond of assisting Jo through the rough terrain, holding out his hand and asking if she was okay. Each time he would do so, Jo would catch a small smile on Ember’s face. The only thing that surprised Jo more than Dean’s single-minded attention on her was Ember’s obvious approval, acceptance, and encouragement of this new development.

As the day wore on, Jo began to suspect that Ember would eventually confront her about the obvious chemistry between her and Dean. Finally, a few hours into the journey, when Ketch and Dean were busy arguing about hunting methodology (_again_), Ember approached Jo with obvious intent.

“So, you and Dean, huh?” Ember asked quietly.

“There’s nothing going on,” Jo said. It was the answer she had rehearsed in her mind for this moment.

“Bullshit,” Ember said. “I may not know you very well, but I know Dean. There’s _something_ going on.”

Jo sighed. On the one hand she didn’t want to discuss this with Dean’s ex-girlfriend, but on the other hand she found herself suddenly morbidly curious. “It’s… nothing,” she said finally. “We’ve just been… talking.”

“Is that what the kids call it these days?” Ember asked, her eyes twinkling.

Jo at first assumed that Dean had said something to Sam (or even Ember herself), but then she remembered that both of Ember’s children had been at the small party from which she and Dean had left early.

“It’s not serious,” she said.

“But he’d like it to be,” Ember said.

Jo looked up suddenly. “What?”

“He likes you. He’s serious about you. I know that look,” Ember said simply, gesturing to Dean. Sure enough, Dean had looked backward and smiled at Jo. When he saw that Jo and Ember were talking, he frowned in concentration, then turned back around to talk to Ketch.

“Case in point,” Ember added, gesturing at Dean’s back. “If he wasn’t serious, he’d have come back here right away and made a joke about how we were probably talking about him. Instead, he’s going to wait a few seconds and then come back here and strike up an unrelated conversation. It’s because he cares quite a lot what we’re talking about and what you think, but for some reason he doesn’t want you to know it.”

Jo was shocked. Could she have misinterpreted everything? She thought on their “morning after” conversation.

_ “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to wake you.”_

_ “Leaving?” he asked._

_ “Yeah,” she said. “Gotta get to Georgia. You know how it is.”_

_ “’m I gonna see you soon? ‘Should do this again sometime,” he’d said._

_ “I mean, I didn’t think you wanted us to be, like, a thing, or anything,” she’d said. _

_ “No, no,” he’d said, shaking his head. “We’re both way too busy. ‘Just figured, you know…” he shrugged. “We made a good team, last night.” _

At the time, she’d thought she had been protecting herself. She’d thought he wanted a girl like Ember, and would never be happy with a girl like her. She’d thought he had been in bed with thousands of girls and only settled down with the one powerful one, and that she would be just another notch on his bedpost.

But now she realized that Dean was getting older, too. His younger brother was in a serious relationship – engaged, even. Ember and Castiel were in a serious relationship, and whatever had once occurred between Ember and Dean now seemed to have fizzled and died, leaving only friendship. And she had blown it, because she had been so convinced that he wasn’t the “settling down” type.

Before she could think about it any farther, however, Dean slowed down so that that could catch up. “Told ya,” whispered Ember with a small smile.

“I think I’ll walk with you ladies for awhile,” Dean said sarcastically and loudly. “Since Ketch seems to have stuffed too many burrs up his ass.” He said it loudly, but Ketch only turned around briefly and shot the three of them his signature taciturn look. Jo looked up at Dean, who gave her a lopsided grin.

***Dean POV***

April 6, Afternoon

It had been an interesting day. He’d managed to save the Charlie Bradbury in this universe from being killed by angels. They’d managed to kill a few angels themselves. Dean had been shot and poisoned, but Ketch had saved him.

The most odd thing about the day, however, was that Jo seemed to have started looking at him differently. He had always caught her staring, but ever since that morning Dean had caught her doing it more. 

What troubled him was that he couldn’t pinpoint exactly _when_ this new pattern had started. Had it started when she’d had that conversation with Ember? Surely they had been talking about him…?

Or, had her new level of attention started when he had been poisoned, and she had thought he was dying? In the end, Dean judged from the intensity of her staring that it was a _good _thing.

They had finally returned to the rift. They hadn’t found Dean’s mother or Jack, but the 24 hours they were given had almost elapsed. Ketch had decided to stay behind with the Apocalypse Universe Charlie, but Dean, Ember, and Jo were anxious to get back. They could make a return trip once they figured out how to heal Gabriel, or at least use more of his grace.

Jo returned first, then Ember, then Dean, who winced as he steadied himself using his injured shoulder.

“Dean!” shouted Sam. “Dean! Hey! Hey. Hey. You're hurt.”

Jo had rushed to help him too, her cool hands grasping his. Ember had flown into Castiel’s arms, and it didn’t look like either was letting go any time soon.

“No, no. I'm fine. I'm fine,” he insisted.

“Hey, the -- the -- the rift, it's...” But Dean didn’t need Sam’s warning to know that the rift had closed behind him.

“Where's Mom?” asked Sam desperately. “Where's Jack?”

“Long story,” Dean answered. “So Mom and the kid, they're not with Michael anymore. Ketch and Charlie are staying back to try to find them. There's a Charlie over there. She kicks ass.”

“Uh, Charlie...Bradbury?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered. He looked around behind Sam, and noticed that there was a large mess in the bunker. There was a small bloodstain as well that he was sure hadn’t been there earlier. “What's this? What -- what... What'd I miss?”

At his words, Ember and Jo began to look around as well, Ember extricating herself from Castiel.

“There was a demon incursion, led by Asmodeus,” answered Castiel.

“Oh my God,” Ember answered. “Are you guys okay?”

“Sorry, Asmodeus got in here?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Yeah, and -- and -- and Gabriel killed him,” added Sam.

“Gabriel?” asked Dean, hope flaring within him. “That's great. So, he's back. Where is he?”

“He just left,” said Castiel.

“What do you mean, he left?” asked Ember and Dean at the same time.

Castiel looked down at Ember, and Dean recognized fear in the angel’s eyes. His heart sank. “We asked Gabriel to help us, and then... then he said ‘no’.”

Ember let out a groan, and Jo shot Dean a reassuring look. “He doesn't get to say ‘no’!” Dean exclaimed. “We still have his grace, though, right? Sam?”

“Uh, we -- we used his grace to -- to heal him,” said Sam, and Ember let out a wail of despair. “So, it -- it's gone. It's all gone.”

“So, if it's gone, then that means that we can't open that door again!” Dean yelled. “If we can't open the door, then I should've never come back!”

Castiel sent an apologetic look to Dean and disappeared with Ember, most likely flying them back to their home.

Jo grabbed Dean’s hand, but he let it go. Instead, he threw his hand across the table, scattering things to the floor. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled to no one in particular. “Every time!”

He put his hands on his head and turned away from Sam, Eileen, and Jo, who were both looking at him in shock. He felt embarrassed for his outburst, but the shame didn’t hold a candle to the pit of despair rising in his mind. “Every time we get close, it always falls apart,” he complained. “Every freakin' time.”

“Dean... we’ll find Gabriel,” said Jo. “I’ll… I’ll help. If you like, I can stay for a little while and help with whatever you need.”

Dean looked at her strangely, her remark catching him off guard. He thought quickly. Logistically speaking, they’d found a new Men of Letters bunker in Rhode Island that had to be gone through, in addition to looking back through their own collection of lore. Recently they had focused mainly on searching for mentions of the Key of Solomon, and they needed to do more research on summoning angels specifically. Castiel focused mainly on Enochian texts and Krissy was busy with school, which meant that the lore needed to be split between himself, Ember, Sam, and Eileen. Another hand would certainly be helpful…

From a personal standpoint, Dean wanted her around even more. She had been so adamant about not wanting a serious relationship, but now she was offering to move in to help him for an unspecified amount of time. Moreover, she was refusing to look at him, and her face was turning red…

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Yeah, for a bit,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “I mean, this definitely takes precedence over ganking vamps,” she added.

Dean paused, unsure what to say. 

“Good,” Eileen said, walking over to give Jo a hug. “It’s settled, then. It’ll be nice to have another girl around for a little while. Sam and I are gonna hit the hay early and start tomorrow.

Dean chanced another quick look at Jo. She was looking back, and he tossed her his signature grin. She looked away, but she was smiling shyly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this one. I feel like Ember and Jo were overdue for some interaction. A little happiness for Dean.


	73. Beat the Devil

***Ember POV***

April 19, Evening

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

If time had moved slowly before, Ember was certain that now it might stop entirely. The days were getting longer, and her mood grew more and more sour. She had built herself back up, finally, from the hopelessness she had felt after Jack had left – the hopelessness that had resulted in her finally allowing her demon side free reign.

With Gabriel’s departure, however, Ember felt that something inside her had once more collapsed. It was this desperation, Ember knew, that spurred Castiel to search for a solution in Heaven. Ember didn’t like the idea, but they had tried everything else. “It’s my duty to my son,” Castiel told her, and she knew he was right.

Castiel returned, thankfully, in one day and in one piece. Rather than bolstering her spirits, however, the events in Heaven had made him as depressed and upset as she was.

“Naomi’s alive,” he reported immediately.

“Naomi! The angel that almost made you kill Dean and I?” Ember exclaimed. “You escaped from her?”  
Castiel shook his head. “She told me times have changed,” he said. “We can’t afford to kill any more of our own.”

Ember could tell by Castiel’s mannerisms that he was deeply upset. “What does that mean?”

Castiel sighed, putting his head in his hands and sitting down in the foyer of their home. “Ember, there used to be thousands of us. _Thousands._ But between the Apocalypse, and the war with Raphael, and the Fall, and the war with Metatron… there are less than twenty of us now.”

Ember gasped. “Cas…! Oh, no.” She hugged him, and she thought that if angels could cry, he would.

“We just… we were never made to do anything but keep order, and fight,” he said. “We never understood the value of human life… or even the value of _angel_ life… until it was too late.”

“So… what now?” Ember asked him reluctantly.

Castiel shook his head. “Heaven requires the power and the presence of angels,” he explained hopelessly. “If it runs out of power, the souls will come crashing back to Earth.”

Ember gasped, but Castiel continued. “As it is, it’s… it’s too close, Ember. No more angels can perish. Heaven is closed, until another solution is found.”

“But… what about when Metatron closed Heaven?” Ember asked.

“He learned it the hard way,” Castiel said, shaking his head. “He had to hurry up and let some more angels back in, after he kicked them all out. But it’s been bad ever since the Fall.”

Ember hugged Castiel, burying his head in her chest. “All the more reason to find Gabriel,” she told him.

“We have to find him,” Castiel said desperately, raising his head to meet her eyes.

“We will,” she said, smoothing his dark hair.

She wondered, inwardly, how it was possible for her to comfort him when she herself was running out of hope.

***Ember POV***

April 25, Morning

Ember woke up early, _again._

She’d been dreaming about Jack, and now she knew she wouldn’t get back to sleep.

She didn’t bother to look for Castiel in the bed next to her, either. Until he’d gotten his wings back, he had often laid down with her to read or research. Since then, he’d spent most of his time flying around looking for Lucifer or, more recently, Gabriel. Over the past week, he had only checked in briefly before flying out again.

The phone was ringing. It was Sam! Maybe there was news!

“Is Cas with you?” he asked immediately.

Her heart leapt. ”No, but he will be,” she answered. “_Cas. I think Sam has news.”_

Ember heard Dean swearing in the background.

“Never mind, he’s here with us,” said Sam.

“Damn it!” Ember shouted. “Tell him to come back and pick me up!”

A second later, she felt the familiar tug behind her navel, and she found herself in the bunker.

The first thing she saw was the jovial grin of the angel Gabriel. “Saved Little Bro the trip,” he said, smiling. 

Ember realized suddenly that Gabriel was still standing incredibly close to her. He cocked his head for a second, considering her. “Damn, girl, now I understand all the hype. You smell like sex on a stick!” 

“Gabriel!” Castiel said warningly, and Ember found herself suddenly on the other side of the room. She had been wearing only an old tank-top and tiny sleep-shorts, but suddenly she was wrapped in Castiel’s trench coat.

Jo, Sam, Dean, and Eileen were all laughing. Jo shot a side-long glance at Dean, and seemed to smile slightly after noting the genuine mirth on his face.

“Okay, Bro, we get it, hands off,” said Gabriel sarcastically, shaking his hands emphatically. “Although, if you’d like to trade her for a night for about… say, six or seven porn stars, I can make that happen for you, Little Bro.”

“I’ll take a pass,” said Castiel stoically, and the group laughed again.

“Your loss,” said Gabriel again. “But I know a couple that are _really_ bendy-…”

“Gabriel,” Ember said, interrupting him. “Thank you for coming to help us.”

Gabriel’s face slumped, and he looked at her shrewdly. “Right down to business, huh?”

***Castiel POV***

April 26, Daytime

Castiel’s spirits had definitely lifted. The presence of his brother, especially a version of his brother that was lucid and willing to help them, was most certainly a bonus.

Still, Gabriel was completely out of grace, and almost entirely human. “How long will it take for you to recover enough grace for us make a rift?” asked Castiel.

Gabriel laughed. “You’re a seraph, Little Bro, but you’re no archangel. Little known secret: we’re almost four times as powerful as a regular angel, but we also recover much slower. I’ll need a month to recover fully.”

“We can’t wait that long,” Castiel said. “How long until you can produce enough grace to get us to the other side?”

“A week,” said Gabriel. “At least.”

Even the week Gabriel had requested seemed too long to Ember and the Winchesters, however.

“We don’t have that kind of time!” Dean insisted.

“It’s the best we can do,” Castiel argued. “Even with a week to recover, he’ll be giving nearly _all _of his grace to us. It’ll still be our job to defend him in the Apocalypse World, not the other way around.”

“Great,” Ember grumbled. “So we have an archangel, but we really _don’t _have an archangel.”

“We could always search for Lucifer,” Castiel reminded the group. “Gabriel is a better tracker even than I am. He’ll know how to find him, and how to trap him. And it’s our job to-…”

“No,” insisted Sam. “Let’s get Jack back, get Mom back, and then worry about Lucifer and Michael.”

Castiel sighed, but agreed with this plan.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

For the first time in more than a millennium, Castiel had an entire week to spend with his favorite older brother. They quickly began a habit of shutting themselves into a quiet part of the bunker to talk, away from the prying eyes of the Winchesters, their girlfriends, the children, and even Ember. It had been three years since Castiel had had another angel with whom he was on friendly terms (Hannah), and nine years since he had had a conversation with a friendly angel that was anywhere near as old as himself (Domiel). Gabriel was a special opportunity – though he had always been Castiel’s favorite of the archangels, they had still only had a small number of actual conversations.

Castiel had a long list of never-ending questions for Gabriel ranging from what their father had been thinking when he’d created the universe, all the way to why Gabriel had ran away. Gabriel answered the younger brother in his usual manner – mostly kidding, some dry humor, and the occasional moment of raw clarity. Castiel soon felt that he had learned more about his own history, and his fathers’ motives, in that one week than he had in the entire 400 million years of his existence.

Still, none of Gabriel’s answers surprised Castiel half as much as his older brother’s questions. 

“So,” Gabriel asked. “Tell me… seriously, tell me. Being with Ember… what’s it like?”

Castiel started to say, “None of your business,” but stopped himself. His brother had answered all of his questions voluntarily. Additionally, Gabriel’s tone was more inquiring than jeering.

“Amazing,” Castiel admitted. “Like nothing I ever could’ve dreamed of.”

Gabriel thought for a minute, and Castiel saw the unmistakable sign of jealousy, mixed with no small amount of wistfulness. Finally, his older brother whispered, “Maybe you did it right all along, Little Bro.”

Castiel looked at Gabriel in surprise. “I mean, c’mon,” Gabriel added, sitting down in a chair across from Castiel. “When I rebelled, I did it with _style_. I mean, I _really _pissed them off, up there. And I did _everything._ I slept with porn stars, and Playboy bunnies… hell, I’ve been to all the best parties and galas in the last three thousand years! And I thought I had it all, you know? I stood for nothing, but I could have anything I wanted, and that’s how I liked it.”

He sighed, looking hard at Castiel. “You did it different, didn’t you? You messed up every which way, and you did everything that angels weren’t supposed to do, even the things _I _was too scared to confront.”

Castiel bristled, slowly becoming defensive.

“But you did it right, you know?” Gabriel asked. The archangel gave him a hard, searching look, and in that moment Castiel got a rare glimpse past the fabricated vessel of the Trickster God Loki to the even more powerful archangel underneath. “You made all the wrong choices for all the right reasons, and you fought for what you believed in. And now, you’ve got something to fight for… a _family_. And it’s a better cause, and a better family, than a bunch of angels that Dad pushed together and warned not to fight … you’ve got a _real_ family. And that girl… _wow.”_ Gabriel sighed. “So maybe you did it right after all.”

“_You’re_ my family,” said Castiel, stunned. “You’re my older brother.”

Gabriel looked alarmed for a second. Then he began to laugh, a genuine laugh this time. “And don’t you forget it, Castiel. I’ve had my eye out for you for years, did you know? Ever since the order came down for you to pull the righteous man out of Hell.” He smiled again, then added, “You’re closer to me than any of those other bozos. ‘Have been for years. D’ya want some donuts? I’m gonna make a donut run.” And, with no further ado, Gabriel disappeared, leaving Castiel pondering on their fates.

***Dean POV***

May 1, Afternoon

Jo had stayed at the bunker for just over two magical weeks, while she helped Eileen and the brothers track and find Gabriel. Once it had been established that Gabriel needed a week to recover his strength before he could donate grace, however, she had headed off on a trip to investigate some murders in rural Missouri. 

He had wanted to go with her, but he still wasn’t entirely sure whether that was allowed, or, in fact, the status of their relationship in general. She had slept in the same bed as him, and they had had sex during her stay, but they had never actually established that they were “in a relationship.” He had been happy enough for the sex and the company, and hadn’t wanted to push it. Therefore, when she had opted to go to Missouri, he had let her go without a fuss.

Despite her absence, everyone (except Dean) was in high spirits. Castiel and Gabriel were more often than not sequestered in a back room in deep discussion. When they emerged, they always seemed to have looks on their faces as though they knew something the humans didn’t.

Eileen had begun wedding planning now that she had Sam’s research-free attention for the first time since he had proposed. Ember often joined them after work, usually hitching a ride from Castiel. Dean showed just enough interest to learn that they planned to be married “as soon as we’re all back together, whenever that is, before shit hits the fan again… you know how our lives are.”

Dean thought privately that this was a dismal, but accurate, way of looking at the situation.

On the fifth day of Gabriel’s stay, Castiel went with Dean and Sam to buy ammunition. When Castiel flew them back and dropped them in the kitchen, Jo was there.

Dean’s heart leapt. _She was back!_

“Hey, sexy lady, how was your trip?” Dean asked immediately, going to kiss her on the cheek. “Was I right? Rogue vampire?”

She whirled around, and Dean noted with alarm that there were tear tracks on her cheeks. She had the heir of someone who hadn’t wanted to be caught crying. It occurred to him with alarm that he never would have caught her there if they had come into the bunker in the “normal” way, by car. Their sudden appearance in the kitchen via angel express had clearly caught her off guard.

There was a beat of silence, then her face turned angry. “DEAN WINCHESTER! WHAT THE FUCK! I LEAVE FOR FIVE DAYS, AND YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH OTHER WOMEN?”

“Dean!” Castiel said accusatorily. 

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head as though he couldn’t believe it. “There’s no way.”

“I didn’t sleep with anyone!” Dean said, his eyes growing wide. “Jo, I swear it! I-…”

“I mean, we’d never actually said we were _dating,”_ said Jo, “But I figured it was kind of _implied _that we were _something._ I’ve only been gone _five_ -…”

“Hey, everyone!” Gabriel said, emerging from the hallway wearing Dean’s bathrobe. “I want you to meet Kandi!”

There was a second of silence, during which Jo’s face heated up in recognition and embarrassment, and Dean felt his face heat up with an entirely different emotion. Then Dean screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK? IN MY BED?!?!” and launched himself at Gabriel. 

***Ember POV***

May 3, Afternoon

Finally, Gabriel had announced that he had enough grace to use to open the rift. It was surprisingly little, though.

“This is what you call a serving?” asked Rowena, who had arrived that morning via angel express.

Gabriel shrugged. “Look, an archangel has almost four times as much power as a normal angel… That means it’ll take at least four weeks to fully recover. This is the best it’s gonna get for awhile. And besides, this is the jet fuel of divine emissions. It’ll be more than enough to get the job done.”

Ember exchanged a skeptical glance with Rowena and Castiel, but the group prepared anyway. Castiel took out his angel blade. Sam and Eileen held hands, exchanging shy glances. Jo shot Dean a determined look. Gabriel ran his fingers down his own angel blade, as if testing the sharpness. Dean tightened the straps on his backpack, grimly focused.

The contents of Rowena’s spell bowl began to glow with the added grace. “Koth Munto Nuntox!” Rowena shouted. She directed the spell with her hands, and a glowing rift formed in the air at the end of the table.

Then it began to bow and fizzle, and then it was gone.

There was silence.

“Okay,” Dean said, dropping Jo’s hand.

“Well, that was...fast,” said Castiel, as Ember rolled her eyes.

“Very, very fast,” added Sam.

Rowena shot a sour look at Gabriel. “One could even say premature.”

“Um...I thought it would be enough,” Gabriel admitted, looking embarrassed.

“So, what?” Ember asked. “We need another week for him to recharge?”

“At least,” said Castiel. “We don’t know how long it’ll take him to recover.”

“There’s got to be a better way,” insisted Sam.

“There is,” said Castiel, as Ember felt her heart plummet. “And you all know what it is. Aside from Gabriel, there’s only one source of archangel grace on Earth.”

Sam and Ember both shot Castiel horrified looks. “No,” Sam insisted.

“I don’t like it either, but there is no other way,” Castiel said again, more firm this time. “We

need Lucifer.”

***Castiel POV***

May 3, Evening

Gabriel was an enigma. In the week he had been at the Winchester’s bunker, he had filled their entire refrigerator, and a second one, with a variety of half-eaten sweets of every shape and size. “It was a perk of my witness protection transformation into Loki,” he explained when Castiel asked about it. “I can _taste_ things!” 

Gabriel gave Castiel a big smile, waggling a lollipop in his face. “You’ve been human, right? And now you’re back to angel? You know what that’s like, then. You’ve got your sexy, sexy girlfriend, _but_…” And he took a long (and rather phallic) lick of the lollipop just to accentuate his point.

Then there was the incident with the porn star named Kandi. Castiel had noted that Dean’s bathrobe, as well as his sheets, were thrown in the trash the following day. There were two more incidents with porn stars, but at least after that incident Gabriel managed to keep them in the confines of his own guest room.

All in all, Gabriel was a fantastic comedian and a wonderful conversationalist. He was also a great older brother only when convenient, and a terrible houseguest.

And yet. When it came to trapping Lucifer, Gabriel was worth all of the trouble he had caused. The archangel still remembered the strong drug Loki had used to sell him to Asmodeus, before (according to the Winchesters), he had killed his arch-nemesis to get vengeance. With the help of the drug, a bit of Gabriel’s image trickery, and a spell from Rowena, Lucifer was captured more easily than Castiel would have believed. Not only that, but Sam and Rowena had worked out a way to keep the rift open for longer than 24 hours, by a continuous use of Lucifer’s grace.

Finally, it was ready. _Finally, _it was time.

***Dean POV***

May 3, Evening

“You gonna be okay back here?” Sam asked Rowena.

“Aye,” said Rowena. “Someone needs to keep an eye on the devil. Go. Save your Mum.”

They all went through the rift in a line – first Sam, then Eileen. Then Castiel, Gabriel, Ember, Dean, and finally Jo.

They arrived somewhere in Kentucky, but they would need to go to Dayton. “I can only fly a few of us in at once,” said Castiel. “I’m going to have to make two trips. We’ll start a mile outside Dayton and move inward.”

The group agreed to the plan, and Castiel flew with them to Dayton. They had walked almost exactly a mile when they approached a number of boards coated in sigils which were nailed to trees.

“We must be getting close to Dayton,” said Eileen. “On the outskirts, at least.”

Dean looked at Castiel, only to see with alarm that he was shaking. “I-I-I can’t,” he admitted. “This...warding is too strong.”

Gabriel, who was closest to the wards, took out his angel blade and drew it down through the middle. Suddenly a human fighter rushed out from behind a tree, a rifle pointed at the group.

“Whoa!” Castiel exclaimed. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re – we’re not here to fight. We’re just looking for…”

Mary Winchester appeared suddenly beside the first human fighter. She had her gun out, but Dean saw recognition flare in her eyes at the sight of Castiel, and she lowered it slightly. “Mary,” the angel said softly.

“Castiel?” she asked, but her eyes searched around him until they finally fell on Dean and Sam. Mary waved away the other gunmen, and the three began to walk toward each other. Dean drank in the sight of his mother. Finally. _Finally!_ She had been here almost a year and a half, and Dean felt that he wouldn’t believe she was alive until he could feel her arms around him again.

Mary caught both boys in a hug, and Dean realized she was crying. “How did you even find us?” she asked softly. But Dean only held her tighter. There were no words.

***Castiel POV***

May 3, Evening

Castiel smiled at the sight of Dean and Sam’s reunion with their mother. Together, the group was escorted by armed guards into the colony. Castiel, Ember, and Gabriel began the line, followed by Jo and Eileen, and then the Winchesters.

“Can you sense him?” Ember whispered to Castiel. They were holding hands, and her touch was reassuring.

Castiel cast out with his angel sense and was relieved to once again feel Jack’s presence. “_Yes.”_

He could feel Ember’s relief at his whispered affirmative, and she let out a choked sob.

Jack was pacing when they saw him. He looked up suddenly, and Castiel realized that his son was doing as he had taught him – reaching out with his angel powers to spot danger. The boy’s powers were much stronger and had a much farther reach than Castiel’s. The shock showed on Jack’s face even before he made eye contact.

Upon seeing Castiel and Ember, however, Jack’s face split into a wide grin. ”Mom? Dad?”

He looked behind them, and, if possible, his smile got wider. “Dean? _Sam?”_

But then Jack frowned, and Castiel knew why – he had felt it, too. A dark sense, as though evil incarnate had come to greet them.

Jack, Gabriel, and Castiel’s heads swiveled at exactly the same time to look behind them. There, strolling into the colony just behind the Winchesters, was Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm "pulling the thread" again. First, I corrected the plot flaw about Castiel's experience in Heaven and the threat of the lack of angel power present in Heaven versus consistency with The Fall.
> 
> Also, I left out the whole Sam dying and Lucifer resurrecting him thing. It didn't work with Jack being Cas' son instead of Lucifer's, but more importantly, I agree with the following:
> 
> "I was not quiet about this, I had a fundamental issue with the fact that Dean left (Sam in the cave when he was taken away by vampire demons). And it was too late in the game to re-write the script, and we just had to put our heads down... it's kind of doing a disservice to the character." - Jensen Ackles, JIBCON 9
> 
> What do you think? Let me know in reviews!
> 
> Also, I hope you enjoy all of the Gabriel stuff in this chapter. It was a joy to write. I should really write more Gabriel.


	74. Exodus

***Jack POV***

May 3, Evening

Jack was powerful… perhaps the most powerful creature in the universe, aside from Michael. He was also barely a child. He was not a military leader. He might be more powerful than Michael – if he was lucky – but he wasn’t as smart, nor was he as experienced. 

He had learned this the hard way recently, and it had cost him the deaths of a handful of his soldiers. “_Michael doesn’t want to kill you… he wants to break you,” _the prophet had said before the bomb had exploded. Jack had barely had the time to shield Mary.

That had been just a few days prior, and the sound of the humans burning alive around him still echoed in his head. It was for this reason that he was jumpy. He felt hyper-aware, and he had pushed his senses to their max these past few days.

He had known his father had come for him before he had even seen him – he had sensed his grace, as his father had taught him almost a year prior. And there was another angel. It was an archangel, but his grace was dim, as though he was gravely injured. If this angel was with his father, he must be good.

Then there was another angel, and the aura of hate surrounding him surpassed even that of Michael. Michael was righteous – lawful, but pompous, and certainly misled about humans. In contrast, this angel was _evil._ And _strong._

_ “Father, who is that?”_

But it was the other angel with his father that answered: “_Lucifer. He must have followed us through the rift.”_

“Come on!” Lucifer was shouting at the wary group. “You should be accepting me with open arms! With my little bro here being a hot mess, you’re gonna need me if you want to fight Michael! So, I’m here to join the team.”

Jack bristled, and he could feel his father and the other archangel bristling as well. Lucifer had called him “little bro”… was it Gabriel? His father had said that Gabriel was dead… but that was a thought for later.

Lucifer was walking toward him. “Your name is Jack,” Lucifer addressed him.

“And yours is Lucifer,” said Jack, staring back at him. He tried to think what to do. As much as he hated the thought, he now understood that he was responsible for everyone in this colony. If Lucifer could be helpful…

But he had heard of Lucifer. His mother had told him all about Lucifer in the few weeks they had had together, and he was, perhaps, as big of a threat as Michael himself.

The decision was made for him, as Dean stalked forward. “No, no. No. You don’t talk to him.” He pointed at Lucifer. “And you, don’t listen to him.” He pointed at Jack.

“Um, don’t you think that’s his choice?” asked Lucifer.

“No,” said Castiel.

“Look, you _need _me,” said Lucifer. “Michael didn’t expect you guys to come here today, but if I know my brother I can almost guarantee you he’s figured it out by now. The Midwest will be covered with his scouts looking for the rift, much less the attack he’ll be planning for the colony.”

Jack looked at Lucifer with narrowed eyes. He was right, and Jack knew it, even if the others didn’t. Michael had spies everywhere. Mary had been sure, for weeks, that Michael had known exactly where they were hiding all this time, even if his subordinates didn’t. He was simply waiting until either he was sure he was strong enough to recapture Jack, or until Jack somehow managed to lead him to the other universe. As much as Jack was happy to see his parents and their friends, he almost wished they hadn’t come. They must have opened a rift, and it was _exactly_ what Michael had been waiting for.

Just as Jack was about to explain this, Dean said, “No. Kill him.” Dean was gesturing at Gabriel, who appeared uncomfortable.

“He can’t,” Lucifer taunted. “He’s not strong enough.”

“Dean,” protested Gabriel.

“I don't understand all the hostility,” Lucifer said, still taunting. “You... need... me. I am a walking weapon. I know this Michael. Heck, I beat him. So how 'bout a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T?”

_“I’ll handle this.”_ It was Castiel. Jack watched his father go to the bag that Dean had thrown over his shoulder and unzip it roughly, pulling out warded handcuffs.

“In case your innate evil overwhelms this new-found team spirit, you won’t mind wearing these then, will you? You’re not at full power, not with all the grace we used to get here. They should hold you.”

The group of them stared at Lucifer coldly, a solid wall of accusation. Finally, Lucifer held out his arms smugly. “Slap ‘em on.”

“So if you’re here, is the rift closed?” asked Sam. Jack noticed that Eileen was with him. He eyed the new silver rings on both Sam and Eileen’s hands. He knew that meant either marriage or engagement, though he wasn’t sure which. Either way, the thought made him happy.

“No, it’s open,” Lucifer said, and Jack groaned. “I left Rowena some grace. So you have...I’m thinkin’...31 hours, give or take?”

“Sooner,” Jack said. “We’ve got to get back and close the rift. Michael knows where we are… Mary and I have been sure of it for weeks. He’s waiting on the right time to strike, when he’s sure he’s more powerful. But his spies will have seen you coming. They’ll be looking for a rift.”

“Then we have to leave as soon as possible,” said Sam. “We have to go back.”

“Go back?” Jack asked in surprise.

“I… um… Boys, um… about that,” started Mary. “I’m not going back.” 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said accusatorily. “What?”

“I fought beside these people,” Mary explained. “I respect them. I respect their cause. You can’t expect me to just abandon them.”

“Or me,” Jack agreed. “I’m – I’m the only chance these people have.”

There was instant protest.

“Jack, you are absolutely not-…” began Ember.

“_Jack, you must understand-…”_ began Castiel at the same time.

“Actually, Jack, you’ve got the right idea,” started Lucifer, “Only-…”

“Shut _up!”_ screamed Gabriel, Castiel, and Ember.

Meanwhile, the Winchesters continued to argue with their mother.

“No, Mom, that’s not --…” began Sam. “You heard what Lucifer said. We have 31 hours --…”

“Sam...Dean... Ember… Cas… I know what you went through to come find us,” said Mary, taking control of the conversation.

Dean scoffed.

“But these people are being slaughtered,” Mary explained. “They need us.”

Again, instant uproar. Dean’s voice won out, because it was the loudest. “No, we need you, Mom,” said Dean. “We do. We have been mopping up the world for years. _Years._ We have been knocked down. We have been possessed. We’ve lost friends. We’ve lost family. We’ve lost each other. And we never walk away, ever. And sometimes, we should’ve, because not every fight everywhere can be won. It just can’t. Right?” He turned to the small group. “Tell them.”

“I think they’ve made up their minds,” Sam said with a small grin. Jack felt a wave of relief for his earliest guardian.

“See?” said Dean, caught off guard. “Wait. What?”

But Castiel also began to smile, and Jack knew his father had an idea. “Jack and Mary don’t want to leave these people,” said Castiel. “So let’s take ‘em with us.”

Sam smiled back at Castiel.

Mary frowned, however. “They’ll never leave their home,” she complained. “They’ll never leave their cause.”

“It’s a lost cause,” said Lucifer. “Unless I’m-…”

“Can somebody just… I don’t know, tie him to a tree?” Dean snapped. “Is there anybody who can watch him?”

“I will,” said Gabriel, leading Lucifer away.

Sam picked up the conversation once Lucifer was out of earshot. “I’m not saying abandon the fight,” he said. “I’m saying we get them somewhere safe, then we all figure out a way to take down Michael. Then once we do, they can come back and save their world.”

Jack thought about this. He looked at Mary to see if he could ascertain how she felt about the situation.

She smiled. “You’d do that for them?”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Half an hour later, the group was walking to the colony’s base camp, along with the small group of survivors that had been at the outpost. There was no point in Jack and Castiel using angel transport – it would alarm the other humans, and they would be shot on sight upon arriving at base camp. Besides, the walk was only about half a mile.

Castiel and Ember brought up the front of the group, along with Jack. Lucifer trailed along behind them, followed by Mary, Dean, and Sam. Eileen was with Sam, and Dean’s girlfriend was with them too, a woman Jack had learned was called Jo. 

Suddenly, Gabriel came running frantically through the forest. Jack knew he had been sent ahead to scout. He made eye contact with his father, who, like him, was readying his angel blade.

“Angels!” Gabriel screamed at them, diving for cover next to Lucifer.

“Hey, right there!” shouted a group of six of Michael’s angels.

“_How many can you take?”_ came the panicked voice of Jack’s father.

“_All of them, I think,” _Jack answered. Meanwhile the Winchesters were readying guns.

“Kill them, on my command!” shouted the lead angel warrior.

Before Jack could raise a finger, however, the angels exploded into a puff of smoke. As one, the group turned to look at Lucifer. He had his fingers up in a _SNAP_ motion, and he looked bored. His handcuffs glowed red and melted off.

“Oh, yeah, about the cuffs,” he said indifferently. “I, um, ate some angel grace as soon as I got to this universe. I knew they wouldn’t hold me. Long story short, I didn’t want your impotence to get awkward, so I just went along.”

The group exchanged significant glances.

“You’re welcome. Welcome. Right?” 

No one spoke.

“Don’t thank me all at once,” Lucifer snapped at them. “See? I can be a Team Player.”

***Castiel POV***

May 3, Night

Once at base camp, the group of them met with the Apocalypse World version of Bobby Singer. He was interested in what they had to say about returning to their world, and asked them to present it to the other men in charge of the small colony.

“My brother and I... back home we’re sitting on the biggest collection of lore and weapons in our world,” said Sam. “Now something in there might be enough to even the odds.”

“So we find that, then you come back here with a plan, a plan to beat Michael and his armies. And then you win,” said Dean.

“Exactly,” said Sam.

Castiel noted that some of the people were beginning to look interested. Suddenly, however Castiel’s attention was stolen by a soldier who came in and whispered something to Bobby. Castiel saw Jack’s eyes widen, and knew that he had heard them, being both closer to Bobby and more powerful.

“_What?”_ Castiel asked him, but he shook his head.

“You may think you don’t know us, but you do,” Sam was saying emphatically. “We’ve been where you are. Hell, we _are _you.”

The men seemed to consider their offer. “We’ll talk to our people, take a vote,” one of them said.

The brothers thanked their small audience, and the meeting was adjourned.

Bobby approached. “Just got news about Charlie and Ketch. Goin’ after the execution squad went sideways,” he explained. “They’re the ones who got ambushed.”

“I’ll search for them,” said Castiel. “Jack, stay with-…”

“No,” said Jack. “Going after them could be dangerous, and I’m more powerful. And someone needs to stay behind with them… with Lucifer.”

“But Jack, we just got you-…” started Ember.

“He’s right,” Castiel whispered, taking Ember’s hand.

She sighed. “Okay,” she agreed finally. “But just search and scout, okay?”

Jack nodded, and was gone in an instant.

He was back only a few seconds later. “We’ve got to hurry,” he said. “I can take four of you, I think. Dean, Sam, Mary, Ember, and myself should be more than enough. Unless…” 

Jack paused for a moment, turning to look at Castiel as though evaluating his father. Then he touched him briefly on the head.

With Jack’s touch, Castiel saw… _himself, _but different. An Apocalypse World version of himself – a Castiel who had never met Sam and Dean. This other Castiel must be with Charlie and Ketch now. He could see his other self as Jack had seen him, and knew, instinctively, that this Castiel had turned horribly evil.

“I should go, then,” Castiel said, and Jack nodded.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Castiel watched his counterpart, invisible. He had run from the fight - _why?_ Perhaps he considered it beneath him. He reminded Castiel in many ways of himself, so long ago, before Ember. Was this what would have happened if Dean, Sam, and Ember hadn’t shown him the importance of humanity? Would he have fought his doubts until the effort it took to fight them turned him bitter, and bitterness turned him evil? Perhaps so.

In addition to his mind for strategy, Castiel had always been good at using his mind and grace to track humans and other angels. He’d always been naturally good at sensing things, and finding others who didn’t want to be found. And, on the few occasions he had had to invade the mind of a human or another angel to get information, he’d been uncannily good at that as well. But this other Castiel had turned that natural talent into something horrible… a weapon used for torture.

Castiel almost took pity on this monster. He had never known Ember, never spent time with Dean and Sam, never known what was really and truly important. More than anything, however, it scared Castiel to think that he could have been this angel.

He could hear shouts coming from the cabin where Ketch and Charlie had been tortured. Dean, Sam, Ember, and Mary were more than enough of a match for the three angels there, much less Charlie and Ketch themselves.

Just as his counterpart moved to disappear, Castiel slammed him into the side of a tree. He punched him in the face.

The other Castiel looked at him in shock. “More than one of us,” he said. “Fascinating.” He had an odd drawling voice, a German accent which seemed only to perpetuate his evil demeanor.

“I’ve gotten used to it,” Castiel snapped.

“You align yourself with the humans,” said his counterpart, surprised etched on his face.

“I vastly prefer them to angels.”

It was over, and they both knew it. Castiel was a much better fighter than his counterpart. This new version of Castiel may be evil, but he had never been made a seraph, and it was evident that any skill at fighting he may have once had was rusty and unpracticed. 

“Don’t think that you are better than me,” his counterpart accused. “Well, we are the same.”

“Yes,” said Castiel sadly, thinking of how close he had come to becoming this angel. “We are.” And he stabbed him.

***Sam POV***

May 4, Early Morning

As unfortunate as the hang-up with Charlie and Ketch had been, their retrieval had bolstered the morale of the small colony. The men and women in charge of the colony, including Bobby, had taken a vote and they had all decided to go back through the rift to the world Sam and Dean had left behind.

“How do you want to do this?” Sam asked his brother. “That’s a lot of people to get through the rift. Jack and Mom think Michael is watching us to try to get back through himself.”

“I think so too,” said Dean. “So we need our fighters there first. Preferably all at once.”

Castiel sighed. “We’ll need Jack and – I hate to say it – Lucifer to combat Michael,” said Castiel. “So I’ll do transport.”

The small group looked at each other uncomfortably. “I don’t like this,” Ember said finally.

“Neither do I,” said Dean, shaking his head. “But it’ll have to work.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The colony took an hour to grab their belongings, and then it was time to go. Because they were expecting Michael to meet them at the rift, the fighters went first. Lucifer transported Gabriel, Sam, and Dean, because the three of them refused to allow Lucifer to transport anyone else. Castiel transported Jo, Eileen, and Mary, and Jack transported Ember, Ketch, Bobby, and Charlie.

Upon arrival, all 13 of them looked around, readying themselves for a fight… but none came. “OK,” said Dean. “It’s all clear. Cas, Jack, go back and get the rest.”

The two of them nodded and disappeared.

“I can-…” started Lucifer.

“No,” snapped Dean, Sam, and Ember at the same time.

The first seven survivors arrived with Jack and Castiel a moment later. They seemed bemused by angel travel, and stared apprehensively at the rift. “Hey, come on!” Dean yelled. “Ketch, show ‘em how it’s done.”

Sam understood: the situation on the other side was unknown, and they needed to send a fighter through first.

“Follow me!” yelled Ketch, and the seven disappeared one after the other.

“Mom, Bobby. Charlie, you’re with them,” Sam directed as Castiel and Jack arrived with another seven.

“See you on the other side, bitches,” said Charlie.

The second set of seven disappeared through the rift quickly, but not before Jack and Castiel had brought seven more.

When they, too had disappeared through the rift, and the third set of seven had appeared with Jack and Castiel, Sam began to relax somewhat. “Eileen, Jo, you two go through.”

Jo began to stand her ground, but Eileen knew better, seeing the pleading in Sam’s eyes. “C’mon, Jo,” she said quietly, and the two of them disappeared through the rift just as Jack appeared with the last four members of the colony.

“That’s it,” said Jack as members of the colony continued to go through the rift.

“Son, let’s go,” pleaded Castiel.

“But what about Michael?” Jack said stubbornly, and Sam understood – he had _hoped_ for a fight with Michael.

“We’ll come back for him,” Ember said. “I promise.”

Turning his head resolutely toward the rift, Castiel, Ember, and Jack disappeared through it.

Lucifer attempted to go through next, cutting the last six survivors in line. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up,” Sam said, stopping Lucifer with his gun.

“What?” Lucifer asked.

“We need you and Gabriel here, in case something goes wrong. Wasn’t that the whole point of you being on the team?”

Just then, they heard the unmistakable sound of fireworks. Sam’s stomach dropped, and he and Lucifer looked skyward as one. They barely had time to react as fireballs fell just next to them, killing the last of the survivors.

“No!” screamed Dean.

All of them raised their weapons, attempting to peer through the dust caused by the explosion.

There was a loud ringing noise, and suddenly a scuffy man in a long overcoat approached. Sam knew that this was Michael from the way Lucifer tensed next to him. 

Michael’s wings were unfurled, showing as shadows against the dust. “Gentlemen,” he said calmly.

Lucifer stepped forward. “Lu,” Michael said arrogantly. “You don’t really want to try this again, do ya?”

“Um...Yeah,” Lucifer said confidently.

They nodded at each other, and Lucifer’s eyes glowed red. He flung his hands out, blasting Michael with invisible power. Michael was knocked back a few steps, but remained on his feet, almost unaffected.

Michael cast a bluish-white ball of power at Lucifer with one hand, then another. It knocked Lucifer to the ground, where he moaned in pain, a bit of blood coming out of his mouth. Michael smiled at Lucifer, but then looked up and noticed Gabriel.

“Can it be?” he whispered. “Gabriel?”

Gabriel looked determinedly at Sam and Dean, taking a step forward. “Go,” he said. “I can buy some time.”

“Gabriel, don’t,” Sam whispered, knowing that it was useless.

“All I did on Earth was run,” said Gabriel. “I’m not running anymore.”

Gabriel took a few more steps forward, and Michael smiled cruelly.

“Go!” shouted Gabriel.

Dean pulled Sam towards the rift, but they stopped just before it, eyes turned back to watch Gabriel’s fight with Michael. 

Michael pulled an archangel blade from his sleeve. Gabriel raised his own and moved into combat position. Gabriel lunged, but Michael deflected, again and again. Finally Michael punched Gabriel, knocking him back. Then Gabriel managed to punch Michael squarely in the face while also scratching his shoulder, and Sam thought for a minute that Gabriel might win. A shining ray of hope shot through him. But then Michael surprised Gabriel with an underhanded move, and caught him squarely in the chest with the archangel blade.

“Gabe! No!” screamed Dean, and he attempted to charge forward, but Sam held him back.

Blue light streamed out of Gabriel’s wound and out of his eyes and mouth. Michael watched with glee as his brother slumped forward.

There was no more time to wait. “Go. Go!” Sam screamed his brother, and Dean, too, disappeared through the rift.

Sam stepped up to the rift as well, then looked back, determined. Michael slid Gabriel off of his archangel blade, then stared down at his dead body. Gabriel’s eyes were open and unseeing. 

Suddenly Sam heard pleading. “Sam, help me, man. I’m hurt. Please.”

Lucifer had risen from the ground and was making his way toward the rift, bleeding profusely from the stomach. Michael was still a ways behind him, but walking forward determinedly. There was no time to waste. “Lucifer, how did you think this was gonna end?” Sam snapped, and he stepped through the rift.

“Close it!” he yelled on the other side, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was yelling at. To his relief, however, the rift fell closed behind him.

They had done it!


	75. Let the Good Times Roll

***Sam POV***

May and June

**ONE MONTH LATER**

The past month had been bliss.

Finally, Jack was back, and Mary as well, and even _Bobby. _Sam was happy to have his mother and Bobby back, though he had to repeatedly remind himself that this wasn’t _his _Bobby, not really. 

Both Mary and Bobby had busied themselves with ingratiating the survivors into the community. Of the twenty survivors that had made it through the rift, twelve still remained living at the bunker. The rest had moved out into the community, as had Mary and Bobby. They all remained close, however, and the bunker continued to be the central hub of Apocalypse World refugee business. 

Sam had taken up the role of their leader, along with Bobby. Though Bobby was older and had known the refugees longer, Sam was of course more familiar with this world, and so the refugees relied on him for information about technology as well as networks and connections. They had taken to calling him “Chief”, which he was not entirely sure he liked. He organized hunts and technical support, though he was training Bobby as quickly as he could to help out.

“FDI?” Bobby said, picking up the phone one day in late May under Sam’s watchful eye.

“FBI,” Sam whispered.

“Riley, what are you doing calling this number, you’re supposed to be on that rugaru case?” Bobby asked into the phone. “Well, yes, that’s because Sam and I are both _here_ using _this_ phone instead… _No, _Riley, this number is for when cops want to make sure we have official credentials… Yes, hunting angels _was _easier sometimes… yes, you have to kill it with fire. Well, only if you knife it through the brain with a demon knife, and seeing as you don’t have one... okay then.”

By the time Bobby hung up, Sam was laughing. “What?” the older man asked.

“Nothing,” Sam said, smiling. “It’s just… you’re the one who taught us to do all this. You know, answer the phones and consult on different cases… it used to be your job, the other you. It’s sort of… gone full circle.”

Something in Bobby’s face shifted, and he shook his head. “It wasn’t me, though. This world you got here… it’s better, but it sure as hell is confusing.” Then he smiled. “Gotta learn, though. We’ve all got a lot to learn.”

Dean, in contrast to Sam, had no desire to organize hunts. Overall, he seemed happier than he had been in quite some time – he had Jo, and his mother was safely back from the alternate universe, and all of the people he loved were safe. 

Still, Sam noticed that although Dean got along with the newcomers in the bunker, he avoided them whenever possible. When he could, he took a case, either with Sam if he was available, with Jo, or even with Castiel. 

If none of those three were available, Dean was often accompanied on hunting trips by Krissy, who was on summer break from college. 

At first, Krissy’s continued attendance in college was an on-going condition of Dean’s and Ember’s support for her hunting expeditions. Now, however, Krissy was rapidly approaching the age of 21, and she had been on enough hunting trips to be thankful for the tutelage of her pseudo-parents rather than begrudging. She was majoring in Religious Studies, though they joked that she was also earning a minor in “convincing Cas to help with homework.” She had an eye for languages, and was earning minors in Latin, Spanish, and Chinese. 

Occasionally, Jack would assist Krissy with her homework or with hunts. Sam was keeping a close eye on the situation between Jack and Krissy. He still caught them staring at each other when the other wasn’t looking, but overall they had fallen into a somewhat awkward friendship. Krissy had a boyfriend at the moment, a boy she had met in college. Though Sam doubted it would last, it gave him momentary relief.

Jack split his time between the bunker in Lebanon and Ember’s home in Conway Springs, and Sam couldn’t ever remember seeing Ember and Castiel happier. Though Castiel lamented the loss of his brother, the return of his son was an infinite relief. Though the four of them (Ember, Castiel, Krissy, and Jack) technically lived four hours away, they were still at the bunker on an almost daily basis, flown back and forth by an all-too-willing Jack or Castiel.

Sam married Eileen Leahy on June 2nd. Dean was the best man, of course, and Castiel served as both groomsman and priest. Ember and Jo were bridesmaids. 

It was a small wedding, held in a small park. There were only the 20 survivors and about 20 other individuals in attendance. 

“So, are you gonna pop out a couple of kids now?” Dean asked Sam, trying to look as though the answer were inconsequential.

Sam was exhausted, but happy. He surveyed the scene. It was the end of the reception, and many of the guests had already left. Ember and Castiel were dancing unabashedly. A small delegation sat at a table nearby talking in hushed voices, including Jack, Krissy, Donna, and two of the survivors. Jo and Claire were having a long discussion that seemed to involve a lot of gesturing, laughing, and, at one point, a stabbing motion. Eileen had gone somewhere to change out of her wedding dress.

“Dude, we haven’t even talked about that,” Sam admitted. “I mean… we want kids. But we’re not in a hurry.” He took a sip of his beer and laid back lazily in his lawn chair. “Frankly, I’m still having trouble believing we made it through this wedding without another damn catastrophe.”

“Me too,” Dean admitted. “I feel like any second another archangel or demon is going to jump out of the bushes.”

Sam sighed. “Maybe we’ve been hunting for too long, Dean,” he said, taking a long swig of his beer.

“Of course we’ve been hunting too long,” Dean agreed.

Dean turned to his brother, appeared to open his mouth, then stopped and took another swig of his beer.

“What?” asked Sam, raising his eyebrows.

Dean put his beer down slowly. “Do you remember when you asked if we could stop it? All the evil in the world?”

Sam looked at his brother, surprised. “Yeah,” he said.

“You asked if I thought we could ever… really change things,” Dean said thoughtfully. “Well… maybe with Jack, we can.”

Sam thought about his brothers’ words. It was true, Jack had been making hunts go easily for the group of them over the past few weeks. There hadn’t been a single casualty, despite several near misses. All of the survivors knew to pray to Jack if they were in dire need, and he had saved quite a few of them.

“Maybe you’re right,” Sam said. “But then what will we do?”

Dean gestured at the wedding around him. “You can pop out a couple of kids, I suppose.”

Sam thought about it for a moment. A young girl or boy with Eileen’s smile and hair…

He shook his head. Those thoughts only led to disappointment. It had been a miracle that Sam and Eileen had both made it to the wedding, both physically and mentally, and with neither of them running for the hills due to their fear of attachments. “Dude, we’re not really planning on…”

“I know,” said Dean, nodding. “But still… you’ll have the option. And as for me…” He raised his beer and toasted it toward the darkening sky. “A whole lot of this. But on a beach somewhere, you know? Can you imagine? The group of us somewhere, toes in the sand, a couple of those little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously. Some hula girls.”

Sam scoffed. “Wait, you’re really talking about retiring? _You?”_

“If I knew the world was safe? Hell, yeah!” Dean exclaimed, and the jocularity had left his voice. He was serious now. “And you know why? 'Cause we freaking earned it, man.”

Sam smiled, holding up his beer as Eileen came toward him wearing a pair of jeans and a white v-neck t-shirt. “I'll drink to that.”

***Ember POV***

June 2

Ember smiled against Castiel’s chest, caught in the dance. Jack was safe… their son was finally safe. He was currently in a deep conversation with Krissy, Donna, and a few of the other refugees from the Apocalypse World.

All was well.

“What do you think about getting married?” asked Castiel’s gruff voice in her ear. A shot of adrenaline coursed down Ember’s spine, making her freeze where she stood.

“Are… are you…” She swallowed. “I think… I think it would be good idea… eventually,” she said carefully.

“It never occurred to me, until recently,” Castiel said, stepping backward and holding Ember away from him so that she could see his face. “But that’s how humans do it, isn’t it?”

Ember chose her words wisely. “Typically the male picks a really romantic moment, that is _not _someone else’s wedding, and gets down on one knee with the ring and proposes. And then yes, that’s how humans do it.”

Castiel appeared to think about this briefly, then nodded and pulled Ember close again. Once more they began to step to the music. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. 

Then he added, “Metatron showed me all of pop culture, but sometimes I forget how to apply it.”

“I know,” said Ember, smiling against his chest.

“For angels… for me, it’s different,” Castiel continued, as though struggling to explain himself. “There’s never been a question as to whether or not I’ll love you forever, or whether or not I’ll be committed to you forever.”

“I know,” said Ember again.

***Ember POV***

June 19

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Over the past ten years, Ember’s power had fluctuated. Normally, at her base level of power, she was only able to move small objects with her mind, but not humans and animals. Her power was tied tightly with Lucifer’s, however, due to her being Azazel’s daughter. Therefore, her power had increased exponentially with his return during the Apocalypse, though it had returned to baseline immediately afterward.

When Ember had been a victim of the Blood Bond with first Dean and then Castiel, she had mirrored their power levels and drawn on and strengthened her demon side. As a result, she had gained some extra strength, including the power of teleportation. When she had been pregnant, Jack’s powers had amplified her own until she was stronger than she had ever been. When she had been reborn, her powers had returned to baseline. When Lucifer had come back to this side of the rift, her powers had once again increased, then decreased again when he had been trapped in the Apocalypse World.

Since then, each morning and each evening, Ember had completed a “power check.” She had never told Castiel or anyone else that she did this, but she felt that she ought to be prepared if Lucifer ever returned somehow.

More than two months after Sam trapped Lucifer in the other world, Ember began to wonder if she was being silly. Perhaps she was jumping at shadows, and that was never a good thing for a hunter.

When, on the morning of June 19th, Ember accidentally managed to almost send her cat hurtling through the ceiling, she decided that perhaps she wasn’t jumping at shadows after all.

“CAS!” she screamed, and he appeared a second later.

“Lucifer’s back,” was the first thing she said.

Castiel’s face paled. “Are you sure?”

Ember nodded, hurrying to dress. “I just damn near launched Kitty out through the roof.” Kitty, a stray Jack had acquired over the previous year, glared at the two of them and walked indignantly out of the room.

Castiel took Ember’s hand, and a second later she was in the bunker. Castiel left, returning a second later with Krissy. “Cas! What the hell-…”

But Cas was gone again. 

When he returned this time, Jack was with him, and the two of them landed on either side of Ember. Jack looked angry, angrier than Ember had seen him in months. He looked older, somehow too… with a start, Ember realized that he was ready for war.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Most of the survivors, as well as Jo and Eileen, were off on hunts. Sam had alerted Eileen (and therefore Jo, who was with her) to Lucifer’s presence in the world, but had also steadfastly ignored her protests and refused to send Castiel or Jack to bring her back to the bunker.

Only Mary, Bobby, and of course Dean and Sam were present at the bunker when Ember, Castiel, Jack, and Krissy came bearing news of Lucifer. Within ten minutes or their arrival, however, the bunker was in chaos.

“All right,” Dean was saying. “Jody’s lookin'. So far, Nada.”

“Yeah, angel radio is nothing but static, which is disturbing,” added Castiel.

“Great,” Dean said. “Well, we'll just add that to the list.”

“So what do we do now?” asked Mary. 

Suddenly, a loud banging sound began, and the lights began to flicker.

“What’s happening?” Krissy asked, her eyes wide. Ember, Dean, and Castiel both moved instinctively closer to her.

“What the hell is that!” Bobby exclaimed, but Ember followed Dean’s and Sam’s eyes up to the second floor, and she knew: the wards were breaking.

“Cas, get them out of here!” Ember exclaimed, but the angel had already grabbed Bobby, Mary, and Krissy and was gone.

She felt Castiel’s hand grasp hers again just as a bright light began to shine and the second floor door began to break open. It fell into the bunker with a clatter, and in walked Lucifer, accompanied by Michael.

Ember looked at Castiel. She could tell that he wanted to teleport her away from the danger as well.

“_Don’t even think about it!” _she thought towards him.

His face fell, and he looked at Michael. She couldn’t read his mind like he could hers, but his message was evident: _If you won’t let me take you elsewhere, I’ll move to protect you._

Ember sent a resigned nod at him. “_Together.”_

Then, for a split second, Ember caught the murderous gleam in Jack’s eyes as he moved forward, and suddenly everything was happening at once. 

“You hurt my friends!” he screamed at Michael, who began yowling in pain under the onslaught of Jack’s powers. “You hurt my family!” 

Meanwhile, the other four of them were concentrated on Lucifer. Ember shoved with her force powers, and Castiel ran forward with his angel blade. Meanwhile both Winchester brothers were shooting at Lucifer, but nothing seemed to touch him.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t get back?” he asked, flicking his fingers and sending Castiel backward toward the wall. “I knew how to get back, and Michael provided the grace. Look at us brothers, working together… for the moment.” He sent a mean look at Michael, who had fallen to his knees under Jack’s onslaught.

“Why all the hatred?” Lucifer continued, advancing slowly despite the hail of bullets coming toward him. “I’m not even trying to kill you at the moment! Though, admittedly, Sam, you’re definitely next on my list of ‘people who must die.’” He put his fingers up in quotation marks, all the while getting closer to Jack.

Ember opened her mouth to scream a warning to Jack, but instead she was suddenly flying through the air. She could feel her back protesting as she hit the back wall with a sickening _crunch_.

“Jack!” screamed Castiel as he attempted to right himself. Jack looked finally at Castiel, then at Lucifer. He let Michael go, and the archangel fell forward, black blood running from his eyes and nose. He wasn’t dead yet, but Ember could tell he was severely drained. Jack began to edge closer to Lucifer, still keeping Michael in his vision and backing up toward Ember and Castiel.

There was a beat in which they all surveyed each other: Michael bleeding and doubled over, Lucifer next to him looking murderous, and Jack backing up to protect the Winchesters, Ember, and Castiel, none of which were doing well.

“Look all I _really_ want… is _this,”_ Lucifer said. Unseen from his sleeve, he pulled out an archangel blade. He lunged forward with surprising grace, grabbed the front of Jack’s jacket to pull him closer, and made a slice across Jack’s throat. 

“Noooo!” screamed Ember and Castiel both.

Lucifer opened his mouth to accept Jack’s grace. And then Michael was up, staggering forward toward Lucifer like a zombie. 

Ember’s legs felt suddenly as though they were once again capable of movement, and she staggered upright. Similarly, Castiel, Dean, and Sam all surged toward Lucifer, Jack, and Michael.

Lucifer took one look at the situation and disappeared in a giant ball of light, never letting go of Jack’s jacket. Castiel appeared to bounce backward, rebuffed from the light, while Sam was swallowed up in it.

A second later, Lucifer, Jack, and Sam were gone.

Ember looked around, and realized with a start that Castiel was gone, too. 

Then, suddenly, he was back, clamping a pair of angel cuffs on a very surprised-looking Michael. “He’s weak, Dean,” Castiel said, business-like, in Dean’s direction. “These should hold him. But you’ll have to guard him.”

“Cas, wait-…!” Dean protested, but a second later Ember felt the rush around her ears that she associated with angel flight. Castiel was following Jack.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember arrived, holding Castiel’s hand, in what looked like a very old church. Lucifer stood facing Sam and Jack, who both looked tired and bloody. 

Ember had barely landed with Castiel when Lucifer screamed, “You’re interrupting!” The two of them were blasted backward and pinned where they fell on the floor. Ember had lost her hold on Castiel’s hand when Lucifer had attacked, and she groped deftly for it, unable to move her feet in any direction.

“Look, I actually have no reason to even hate you,” Lucifer said, turning to Jack. Blood covered Jack’s mouth, but he looked at Lucifer with hatred burning in his eyes. “But the problem is, you’re a Nephilim, which means that there’s a strong possibility you’ll ultimately heal until your power comes back. Which means I need to kill you now.”

Ember screamed, “Noooo!” and Lucifer turned in her direction. “This would’ve been completely different if Jack had been _my_ son. But _you-…” _(Here Lucifer turned to Castiel.) “…-had to get in the way!” 

Ember caught Castiel’s eye just long enough to see his love, and his fear, before he was ripped away. Lucifer sent him flying toward the opposite wall, and Ember heard a sickening crack before Castiel was still.

Ember’s scream was cut off as Lucifer silenced her.

“And as for you,” Lucifer said, turning to Sam. “I am _sick _and _tired _of your whole stupid family.” He began punching Sam after every word. “Every… _stinking_… one of you. But you most of all.”

Ember’s mouth was still open in a silent scream as Lucifer continued punching. “The age of the Winchesters is dead. There are no more angels, and soon there will be no more Winchesters.

I think I’ll end all life in the universe. Remake it in my image, better than Dad ever could. I'm thinkin'... mm... fire-breathing dragons, sassy talking robots. I might give humans another chance if they know their place and worship me, 'cause I've earned it.”

Suddenly, a bright light began to glow behind Lucifer. Then, miraculously, there was Dean, bathed in light, angel wings unfurling behind him. The light in the church went out, and Lucifer, Ember, and Sam all turned toward the new arrival. A sneaking suspicion was rising inside of Ember, and it made her uncomfortable, even despite her worries about Castiel and Jack.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his voice weak.

“Hiya, Sammy,” said Dean with a smile.

“You let my brother in,” Lucifer said, and Ember’s heart dropped. _How could he?_ But Dean was still in control, because that was definitely Dean’s body language, not Michael’s. Could he help? _Castiel… Jack…_

“Well, turns out, he and I have something in common,” Dean said. He spared a glance to Castiel, and Ember’s heart leapt upon realizing that Castiel was stirring, and even struggling to sit up. “We both wanna gut your ass.”

He spared a glance to Sam and instructed, “Get clear.” Sam nodded his understanding.

Lucifer’s eyes showed his intention a second before he began running toward Dean. As he got near, Dean kicked him in the chest, sending him flying across the church.

“Aah!” Lucifer screamed.

Suddenly the weight on top of Ember seemed to lift, and she felt that her voice had been returned. She spared one more glance to note that Dean and Lucifer were captivated only with each other, and then ran toward Sam, Jack, and Castiel.

Sam and Jack had beat her to Castiel’s side. Castiel was sitting up fully now, and his eyes were open.

“Cas!” 

“It’s… just… wing,” he said, groaning. “It’ll heal.” 

“Can you walk?” Ember asked as Castiel stood up. Across the church, Dean was flung against the wall with such force that a giant crack appeared in the wall itself where he landed.

Together, the four of them ran as fast as they could as the church began to shake, Sam helping Jack and Ember helping Castiel. They were barely out of the door of the church when they heard the unmistakable _THUD _of an object colliding with one of the church’s walls, causing the earth itself to shake. They kept running until they reached the nearest building, more than half of a football field away from the abandoned church.

There, Sam stopped, and the other three followed, looking backward. Half of the church seemed to have crumbled due to the fight between the two angels, though some of the wall was still standing. The large steeple had fallen right next to the church with part of the point broken off. From their vantage point, it was clear that Lucifer was gaining the upper hand, punching Dean repeatedly. Ember tried to direct her force powers to help him, but it was hopeless: she couldn’t aim properly without the possibility of hitting Dean instead, and she was too far away anyway.

“Good try, Dean. I'll give you that, buddy,” yelled Lucifer, his voice still clear despite the distance. The two were up in the air now, above the ruins of the giant church. “But I'm not just powerful now. I _am_ power. And I don't need a blade to end you, pal. Bye-bye, Dean. This was actually so much easier. I should’ve just done this in the first place.”

Ember and Castiel screamed as the white light emanated from Dean’s eyes and mouth. And then they saw Sam, who must’ve run back to the church without them realizing. “Dean!” he screamed, and he tossed his brother the archangel blade, which Dean embedded into Lucifer’s chest.

Lucifer began to scream, and bright light powered upward toward the Heavens. By the time Ember reached the brothers, Lucifer laid dead on the crumbling church floor, his outstretched wings charred and burning on either side of him.

Jack was the first to speak.

“Is he…”

“He… he’s dead,” Sam whispered.

“Holy crap,” said Dean and Ember together.

“You did it!” exclaimed Sam.

“No,” Dean said, smiling around at the group of them. “_We_ did it.”

A second later, however, Dean doubled over in pain.

“Dean?” Sam asked carefully.

“We had a deal!” Dean screamed as he struggled against an unknown enemy.

Then suddenly he stood up calmly and grinned at them.

“Michael,” whispered Castiel and Sam in horror.

“Thanks for the suit,” said Dean’s voice.

Then he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so first of all, anybody coming back to my story, thanks again for your continued support.
> 
> So remember that in this version Cas has been given his wings back. I get that Cas was OP and so they had to knock him down a few pegs (i.e., "make him a wuss," in Misha's own words) in the show, but I really think they could've written around his wings. It is really NOT that hard.
> 
> Finally, the fight here is quite a bit different than the one that went down in the TV show. Part if it is because in this version Jack is Ember and Cas' son, and part of it is because a lot of people, including Jensen himself, hated how the Michael vs. Lucifer battle went down. I hope it's appropriately climactic here. I felt like at the very least they should've slammed each other into buildings like Neo and Mr. Smith in the Matrix.


	76. Stranger in a Strange Land

***Ember POV***

July 9

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

Three weeks.

It had been three weeks without a single sign or trace of Dean.

Due to the fact that Jack no longer had powers and Castiel’s wing was still healing, their family of four was forced to move into the bunker for the first week after Dean’s disappearance. Castiel and Ember moved back to their Conway Springs, Kansas home a week later after Castiel’s wing finished healing, but both Krissy and Jack remained full-time at the bunker.

Jack had difficulty adjusting to the loss of his powers, and put forth a significant amount of effort learning to fight and dodge like a regular human. Ember and Castiel felt the frustration roll off him in waves, though he tried to hide it.

Ember still kept her part-time business as a Therapist for supernatural related trauma and/or supernatural beings trying to keep on the straight and narrow. In the evenings, however, Castiel nearly always gave her a ride to the bunker to help with the search for Dean.

Things were similar to during the time that Jack had been gone the previous year.

“I don’t like it anymore this time than I did the last time,” Castiel said after Ember asked for another dose of “angel energy” on a Tuesday evening at 8:00 PM. “It’s not normal for humans to live off of angel healing energy. It’s not coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re a celestial being, blah blah blah,” Ember said grumpily, but she gave him a wan smile. “Unfortunately we _both _know it’s actually _healthier_ than me drinking tons of coffee, which is the alternative.”

Castiel sighed and touched two fingers to her forehead, after which she felt a bit better.

Sam, for his part, was just as stressed (if not more) and just as tired (if not more) as Ember. (In fact, Castiel admitted to Ember that Sam asked him for “angel energy” nearly as often as she did.) Sam was even sporting a beard, which was something Ember had never seen in the entire time she’d known him. In fact, if it weren’t for Eileen, Ember worried that Sam would’ve done something completely stupid (as was usual for the Winchesters) within the first week of Dean’s absence.

The only person who might have been more effected by Dean’s disappearance than Sam, Ember, and Castiel was Jo, Dean’s (sort of) girlfriend. In typical Dean fashion, she refused to discuss Dean with anyone and hadn’t been seen at the bunker since his disappearance. Near the end of the second week, however, news reached the bunker from Jody (who had heard it from Claire) that Jo had barely managed to survive after vaulting into the middle of four demons armed only with a single angel blade.

“It sounds like a very Dean move,” Sam had grumbled to Ember and Eileen, who were there when he spoke to Jody on the phone. Eileen was subsequently assigned to “see if Jo and Claire need any help on their next hunt.” Though Jo didn’t turn Eileen away, she did send a short series of angry text messages to Sam about the issue.

Finally, after several dead ends, Castiel and Ember hit rock bottom and did the thing they both dreaded the most – they contacted the demons.

The meeting was to be held in a local bar in Dallas, Texas, and the demon involved, Kipling, had stated that he would meet with Ember but not Castiel.

Therefore, Castiel was invisible.

Unfortunately, the demons had planned for this. Ember spotted the two large angel wardings covering the bar a moment after Castiel let out a quiet curse in Enochian. “Shit,” she grumbled. “We’re going to have to go with Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?” asked Castiel, turning in her direction. Ember couldn’t see him, as both of them were invisible, but she could feel his hand in hers.

“I’ll go in, erase the wardings when I can, and turn invisible and dodge if I need to.”

“I strongly dislike Plan B.”

“I knew you would,” Ember said. 

“Plan B is almost certain to end in a fight to the death or worse.”

“And yet, it’s what we need to do to get Dean back,” Ember said. She couldn’t see Castiel, but she could sense his resignation by the feel of the slump of his shoulders next to hers.

Ember walked in with her head held high and sat down at a table, trying to look far more at home than she felt. The bar was full of demons (seven in total), and while all of them eyed her immediately, they all pretended to go about their business. It wasn’t the typical demon response, which would’ve been either to stare openly or make a pass at her. This meant that all of the demons in the bar worked for this “Kipling.” 

After only a few minutes, one of the demons approached Ember and identified himself as Kipling. He ordered both a coffee and a truly obnoxious drink before Ember finally began a conversation.

“I was surprised you wanted to meet here.”

“I’m surprised you wanted to meet at all,” the demon said. “Didn’t think you consorted with our kind.” He removed his sunglasses, his eyes turning black.

“I need information,” Ember said, flashing her own black eyes for a quick second. It was rare that she did it, and she could never hold the blackness for more than a few seconds… but Kipling didn’t need to know that.

Ember noticed that the demons around them were all watching raptly now, though a few of them were still pretending to do other things. Carefully, Ember used her force powers to raise an open bottle of dark wine near the angel symbol closest to the bar. She poured the bottle over the angel symbol, and it was enough to disrupt the flow of power.

One down, one to go. “Does any demon know where Dean Winchester is?”

“I’m sorry,” said Kipling sarcastically. “Did you just say you lost a Winchester? Because, one -- that’s... interesting. And, two, how is that you lost Dean? Last I heard, he and the angel were the only ones who got to…” His gaze raked down Ember suggestively.

“Just answer the question,” snapped Ember as the bartender brought more drinks.

“You see, I could...” said Kipling slowly, “Except, not to be crass, but what’s in it for moi?”

Ember narrowed her eyes. There were two demons right next to the door where the second angel symbol was painted. Trying to break that angel symbol would be the same as starting an immediate fight. “I was under the impression that you wanted to make a deal.”

“This is true…” Kipling mused. “Unfortunately, I was _really _hoping to make the deal with _Sam _Winchester. I’m sure your angel is flying around here somewhere, but I _was _quite surprised Sam didn’t show up. So, unless _you _have something I want…” He raised his eyebrows suggestively. Then he said, “You should consider it a complement, you know. I don’t usually even like your gender.”

Ember rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard enough.” In one move, she turned invisible and vaulted sideways. At the same time, she used her force powers to yank another bottle of wine off of the shelves.

“Grab her!” screamed Kipling, and the bar turned to chaos.

Ember was about to douse the angel symbol with the wine, but suddenly she felt a hand on her arm, while another demon barreled into her from behind.

“I’ve got her!” yelled the man whose hand was on her arm, but unfortunately the demon who had barreled into her from behind forced her body out of the man’s grip, and both of them went sprawling on the floor. Ember rolled and slid right, tripping another demon in the process who screamed, “she’s here!”

In one move and using all of her strength, Ember used her force powers to hurl half of the wine and liquor bottles in the shelves straight at the door where the angel symbol was. Two or three of them hit home, dousing the entire right of half of the symbol in strong liquor.

A second later Castiel’s entrance was marked by the immediate smiting of two demons, but Ember was too busy fighting to notice. Three demons had grabbed her, one by her feet, one by her head, and one by her hand. She rolled quickly into a ball, catching all of them off guard. In the process she managed to grab the angel blade she kept on her hip near the only limb not grabbed by a demon.

After that, Ember stabbed and Castiel smited until only Kipling was left.

***Sam POV***

July 9

Despite the search for his brother, Sam Winchester couldn’t remember a time when he was taking care of, or worried about, more people.

First, there was Jo. Her recklessness was out of hand. It was such a _Dean _thing to do, that stunt with the vampires! She’d been lucky to get out of it with only a fractured arm and a couple of bites. And, rather than letting her arm heal, she’d turned around and gone off on yet another hunt… Dean would never forgive him if Jo died while he was gone. So, Sam had given up the one person keeping _him _sane, his wife and Jo’s best friend Eileen, to keep an eye on her.

Then, there was Jack. Sam tried to check on Jack as often as possible, but he feared that he’d been doing a poor job of it lately. He could only imagine what it felt like to have Jack’s powers and then be robbed of it. He worried that, like Jo, Jack might do something reckless or get himself killed trying to take on more than he was able.

And finally, there was… Nick.

Nick, whose face (the face of Lucifer) had followed him for over a year after he had opened the portal to Hell in the graveyard. Nick, whose face was in his scariest nightmares and most horrible daydreams.

Somehow, Nick had survived Lucifer’s death. Sam had never heard of such a thing, but both Ember and Castiel had assured him that Lucifer’s essence was gone and only Nick was left. 

What _was _Nick, though? Was Nick even human? Nick’s human body had rotted away, died when Lucifer had switched to possessing Sam more than eight years ago. Then, just under two years ago, Crowley had resurrected Nick to once again be the vessel for Lucifer. Based on Sam’s preliminary research and Rowena’s feedback, it must’ve taken nearly all of Crowley’s power and several additional spells to do so. Nick had been forged into something human, but also slightly more, slightly modified.

As it was, Sam wasn’t sure what would awaken when Nick finally did. As a therapist, Ember was the obvious choice to talk to him. However, when this was suggested, Castiel put his foot down, going so far as to insist that he be the one to talk to Nick in Ember’s stead. Sam guessed that the angel was still guilty about his time as Lucifer’s vessel.

But when Nick finally did awaken from his coma, Ember and Castiel were both in Texas, and so the job of speaking with Nick fell to Sam, just like everything else.

Nick seemed surprisingly human, compared to the larger-than-life red eyes that had peaked out of Nick’s body three weeks before. His voice was softer, and he seemed calm and defeated.

“I don't understand how Lucifer could die and I could live,” he grumbled as Sam treated the wound Nick had sustained from the archangel blade.

Sam could barely look at him, and forced himself to remember that this was Nick, not Lucifer. “Yeah, um... I think that maybe it's because the archangel blades were made to kill the archangel inside, and not the person that he, uh --…”

“Possesses and uses to almost end the world twice?”

“Yeah,” Sam said awkwardly. “That.”

“It must be weird, you looking at me and seeing him,” Nick commented quietly.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, swallowing hard and forcing himself to not look away. He cast around for something positive to say. “But... I'm really glad it's you. I'm glad Lucifer is dead.”

“Me, too,” Nick whispered.

“Do you still, uh -- Y-You still remember…” Sam couldn’t put words to his question, but he knew Nick would understand.

“Just little bits and pieces here and there. Nothing -- Nothing about your brother,” Nick said quietly.

“Okay,” Sam conceded. “And, uh, Michael? Did he tell Lucifer anything? Anything about his plan?”

“I mean, I remember him saying... he wanted to do it right this time,” Nick said, concentrating.

“Do you know what that means?”

Nick shook his head. “I don’t, I’m sorry. Everything was… well… you remember,” Nick said, looking hopefully at Sam. “I mean… right? Weren’t you…?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. I remember.” As much as it was difficult for him to look at Nick, he had to remember that Lucifer had possessed him for a time, too. He knew what it was like to be possessed by Lucifer… the feeling of boiling hatred, of drowning, of being chained to a comet, all rolled into one. 

The next time, his smile to Nick was more genuine.

***Ember POV***

July 9

“What did you want with Sam Winchester?” Ember demanded of the demon Kipling, who was currently tied to a chair. “Either name your terms… or die.”

“I wanted to make a deal,” Kipling said. He seemed unworried about the fact that he was tied to a chair with a demon knife held to his throat, and his nonchalance was grating on Ember’s nerves. He still spoke with a calm smile, and only his eyes belied his true fear.

“You really think that he'd make a deal with you?” Castiel asked.

“He's dealt with worse,” said Kipling calmly. “You see, recently, I had a revelation. Somebody asked me _what it was that I wanted._ And I realized that after 600 years as a demon, walking the planet, destroying, drinking, defiling -- you know, the Three D's – I realized, _I didn't know._ So, I sat back, and I gave it a good think, and I realized exactly what I wanted.”

“And what is it?” asked Castiel, looking more irritated than ever.

“Everything,” Kipling answered, his eyes lighting up maniacally.

“Right,” Ember said, rolling her eyes. “Well, we can start with your freedom. We’d be willing to offer that if you know something about Dean Winchester.”

Kipling ignored her, smiling a large smile. “Now, Ember, I don't know if you're aware or not, but Hell's in a bit of a pickle, you know, with Crowley dead and Asmodeus Kentucky fried, which means --…”

“I don't care,” said Ember.

“Yes, you do. Or you will. You see, for the first time in a very long time, Hell is without a King. And that -- that's just not right. So, I sort of… volunteered.”

“You?” Castiel said, surprised. “You’re the new King of Hell?”

“Exactly,” said Kipling.

“Why are you telling us all this?” asked Castiel.

“Because I want to work with you, not against you,” he said, still smiling. “I’ll tell you everything I know about Michael. But in return, I want the Crowley Deal. I give you information, a spot of help every now and again, and in return, you choose to turn a blind eye to the crossroads deals, the demon-on-demon violence, et cetera.”

Ember and Castiel looked at each other with surprise. “We never gave Crowley that deal,” said Castiel.

“How exciting,” said Kipling, though for the first time he looked truly worried. “Then I would be breaking new ground.”

“All right,” said Ember. “Look, you’ve got style, I’ll give you that much, but you’re no Crowley.”

“Ouch!” Kipling laughed over-dramatically, though his eyes showed true hurt. “Owie! I know that I'm not that ponce-y son of a bitch.” He narrowed his eyes, which turned black just for a second. “You see, in life, I rode with Genghis Khan, and I burned half the world. So, please, do you think that I like prancing around like this? Please. If I had it my way, I would eat your heart. But a King has an image to maintain. And I'm not afraid of you.” His voice lowered to an angry whisper. “So, take the deal, before I stop trying to be Crowley and I show you who I really am. So, what do you say, darling?”

Ember caught Castiel’s eye. _“Cas, if he had solid info on Dean, he’d have made a bigger deal about it. Do I kill him?”_.

Castiel gave her a small smile and an almost imperceptible nod. 

“Well?” said Kipling, smiling phonily at the both of them. “What’s your decision?”

“No,” Ember said. “There will be no new King of Hell.” And she stabbed Kipling with the angel blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of all of the plot holes that I've so far disagreed with, none were as bad as the first episode of Season 14. I get that Cas was OP and so they had to take away his wings (I seriously think they could've written around that - look, I did, and I don't even do this professionally). I get that they had to slowly make him less powerful as time went on, gradually (or as Misha says, "Make Cas a wuss.") But taking away his ability to tell that the rest of the bar was full of demons? Sloppy and phoning it in. The script-writers made an obvious error and even Misha, much as I love the guy, could've corrected it by asking if he could change a couple of lines.
> 
> So I corrected it. I love Supernatural, and I'll watch it and rewatch it until the day I die, and I spend way too much money on conventions, so I can call them out in fanfiction when there's a serious plot error. Thank you, that is all.


	77. Gods and Monsters

***Castiel POV***

July 19

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Finally, a truly useful lead on Dean had come to light. Anael the angel had called to say that Michael was in Duluth, and a group of hunters had made preparations to attempt to retrieve him. There wasn’t exactly what you would call a “good plan” for retrieval, however. The Newton-Dee Hyperbolic Pulse Generator, which they’d previously used to kick Lucifer out of the President, was lost, and the best hope they had was a surprise attack using angel cuffs and spellwork.

Since everything relied on surprise, and both Castiel’s angelic presence and Ember’s half-demon scent would be more than familiar to their extremely powerful foe, both Ember and Castiel were unable to join the rest of the rescue mission.

“And you need me to stay here and babysit Nick and Jack,” Castiel pointed out to Sam. The entirety of the bunker aside from Castiel, Ember, Nick, and Jack was gathered around the table in the War Room, going through weapons and supplies.

“It’s not babysitting, Cas,” Sam pointed out.

“Only in the sense that they’re not infants, but they both have to be supervised. Jack is lost without his grace, and Nick is...he’s just a mess.”

“Well, it-it’s not his fault,” Sam said defensively. “Cas, Nick was housing, you know. He deserves a shot at rebuilding his life.”

“And yet every time I look at him, all I can see is the supreme agent of evil,” Castiel said, feeling defeated. 

“How did you do it?” Castiel asked Ember later that night. Ember and Castiel were spending the night in the bunker. Ember had taken over the job of monitoring the computers in case any hunter currently out on a mission phoned in for help, and Castiel already spent the better part of most nights at the bunker after Ember went to sleep since it was the hub of current information. 

“Do what?” Ember said sleepily.

“Look at me again… after Lucifer possessed me. Didn’t it remind you of… him?”

Ember fixed him with a thoughtful look. “Not really. Your grace is different. And your eyes, and your face, and… everything. It did a bit, I guess, but…” Ember sighed. “I separated who he was, and what he did, in my head, because… Because I had to. But also because I love you.”

Castiel sighed. “Nick knows I can barely look at him, and it’s only making things worse. And… he doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember why he said yes to the possession.”

“His family was murdered,” Ember said. “You… you haven’t reminded him?”

Castiel didn’t meet her eye. “I hoped he would get better before we discussed it,” he admitted. “But he’s depressed and he’s… he just feels _not right._ I don’t want to read his mind, because it would only make him distrust and resent me more. But something has to be done. He’s getting worse, not better.”

Ember fixed Castiel with a stare. “You can’t make him comfortable, Castiel. You can’t baby him. He knows he’s being lied to.”

She sighed, linking her leg around his in the bed. “I told you I was fine to see him for counseling. If you don’t like it, we can do it together.”

“He’s not safe,” said Castiel. The original fear that had flared within him at the thought of Ember getting close to Nick still caused him anxiety, and he still hated the idea. But three weeks had gone by since Nick had awakened, and the only thing he’d done was mope, read books, and lament that he couldn’t understand why he’d agreed to possession. 

“He won’t be safer until he gets out of that room and gets to talk to _people_,” she replied, and Castiel begrudgingly admitted that she was right. “Most people are gone for the weekend, so it’s the perfect time. We need to take the Band-Aid off before it gets worse, Cas,” she insisted.

“Fine,” he said, his lips against the skin of her neck. It was these moments when he was happiest, and he was tired of the conversation marring what otherwise would be a happy moment. “Together.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The next day, Castiel took Ember with him to visit Nick. He still desperately didn’t want Ember to see Nick at all, but he had begun to wonder if this was truly an effort to protect her, or because of his own residual guilt.

Nick’s eyes widened when he saw Ember, and Castiel saw his nostrils flare slightly. Afterward, he simply looked sad. “I brought you some nourishment,” Castiel said frankly. “Now that he’s gone, you must remember to eat.” Castiel set the tray down between Nick and where Ember had made herself comfortable, his back to Nick.

“Right,” said Nick. He sighed, and Castiel could feel the other man’s eyes boring into him. “I’m not him, Castiel.”

It was Castiel’s turn to sigh. “I know,” he said. He remembered Lucifer taking Jack’s grace… remembered what it was like when _he _was possessed by Lucifer…

“But you still can’t look at me,” said Nick.

“It’s difficult,” said Castiel, turning to face the other man finally. “You don’t remember all the things you did in his thrall, but I do.”

“I know,” said Nick. 

Castiel changed the subject and gestured to Ember. “Nick, do you know who this is?”

Nick nodded, his face embarrassed and resigned. “He wanted her… he wanted her very much.”

Castiel could see Ember stiffen, but he didn’t think the other man had noticed. He took a small step closer to her.

“Do you know what I do when I’m not fighting monsters?” Ember asked with a slight smile. “My day job, I mean.”

Nick looked genuinely stunned. “You have a… day job?”

Ember rolled her eyes. “I’m a therapist.”

Nick’s face registered mild shock, then irritation, then resignation. “I suppose that’s probably needed.”

“You’ve been dead and/or a vessel for just under ten years,” said Ember with a smile. “I should think so.”

Castiel began to relax.

Ember and Nick talked for about twenty minutes. Ember was right – Nick’s mannerisms were different than Lucifer’s – less assuming, less intimidating.

Just when Castiel was beginning to become comfortable, Nick said, “I just don’t - I don’t...get it. I don’t understand why I would do something like that. I don’t get how I would let Lucifer possess me.”

“You were in a lot of pain,” said Castiel. “Lucifer saw vulnerability, and he exploited it.”

“Not just that, but you were probably noted to be a strong vessel, for some reason,” said Ember. “It’s all down to bloodlines, but some people can house an angel for longer than others. Some people can’t house an angel without exploding on the spot, while others can house angels for years with very little damage.”

“It’s all… bloodlines?” Nick said slowly.

Ember nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry. The reason you were chosen wasn’t personal.”

“But I would’ve had to agree… Lucifer needed my consent,” he protested. “I just don’t know what kind of pain would make me allow Lucifer to possess me.”

Ember took another look at Castiel. “_You were right, he’s repressing it. He’ll figure it out eventually… we have to talk about it here, before we decide if he can ever be released.”_

Castiel gave an imperceptible nod.

“Nick, it was… your family,” Ember said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“My… family?” Nick said slowly. Then recognition seemed to awake in his eyes. “Sarah and Teddy?”

Ember and Castiel both nodded, but Nick already seemed mentally absent. Fear shone all over his face, suddenly, and Castiel could tell that Nick was remembering whatever it was he had forgotten. He began to sway on the spot, curling into himself. “Oh my god,” he cried. “Who could do that? Who could do that?”

Ember moved closer to Nick, and Castiel gave her a warning look.

“A man broke in to your house, and you weren’t there,” Castiel explained gently.

Nick was crying now, his hands over his eyes as he remembered. “That was no man. That’s not man. That’s a monster!” Ember narrowed her eyes at Castiel, and determinedly moved past him to put her hand lightly on Nick’s shoulder. 

Nick ignored her touch, continuing to cry. “It’s a monster, and then Lucifer found me and made me a monster, too. Oh my god!”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

It had taken over an hour to calm Nick down. Eventually, Ember had suggested that Nick look into his family’s murder. “I hope it’ll give him purpose, or some sort of closure,” Ember said. “At the very least, it should give him some kind of direction.”

It certainly did give Nick purpose. Ember and Castiel watched interestedly as Nick spent his first day not confined to the bunker dungeon-turned-infirmary researching and ranting about his family’s murder. 

“Nothing!” he complained. “Nothing! There’s nothing. There’s no information. There’s no mention of my wife and son past the year they were...when they died. There’s - there’s nothing about the case being solved. Nothing!”

“I’m sorry,” said Ember. “I - I didn’t know that.”

“If I were around, I would have been on those cops every single day, Ember. But I was out of my head with grief. I said yes to Lucifer. I was a coward, and now - …”

It was Castiel, this time, that moved to put a hand on Nick’s shoulder, sensing that Ember would do so if he didn’t. 

Nick surged up and snapped his fingers in Castiel’s face. “_Don’t.”_

Castiel and Ember both looked at each other with alarm; the gesture had been so reminiscent of Lucifer’s kill strike. Even Nick looked down at his hand, surprised.

It was Castiel who broke the silence. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” asked Nick, still looking stunned.

“What went through your head just now?” asked Ember gently.

“Um, I don’t know? Nothing?” said Nick, apparently a mixture of scared and irritated. “What are you trying to get at?”

“Even though he’s departed, there may be some of his influence still within you,” said Castiel slowly. “Just-…” Castiel reached out slowly to touch Nick, trying to read his mind. 

“I don’t have time for this,” said Nick, irritated. “I’m not letting this go, Castiel. I’m gonna find out who killed my family.” And he turned and stormed away.

“Nick!” Castiel called after him. “And then what?”

“Let him go,” Ember said, putting a hand on his arm. Her touch instantly calmed him. “He needs answers. What did you see in his mind?”

“Nothing,” Castiel answered. “Only pain and determination. Nothing… evil.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” said Ember. 

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

That afternoon, Ember had a couple of appointments with clients, though she resolved to check on Nick that evening. Sam (as well as Bobby, Mary, Krissy, Jo, Claire, and Eileen) still hadn’t returned from Duluth, though they had called to say that the lead was solid and Michael had definitely been there. Reportedly Michael had been experimenting on vampires, which made no sense to either Castiel or Ember.

Castiel was researching vampire experiments when Nick burst angrily into the bunker library once again. “Do you know what a cold case is, Castiel?”

“It's --…”

“It’s a case too unimportant for anybody to care about,” Nick interjected. “My wife and son are dead. Gone. Forever. My life is gone with them, and, uh, nobody cares. These cops don’t care.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds very difficult,” said Castiel, completely out of his depth.

“Difficult,” said Nick sarcastically. “Yeah, you know what’s difficult? No evidence. There’s no fingerprints, there’s no DNA. I mean how does that even happen? I mean, there was a witness who came forward and said they saw someone coming out of the house, and then they said they didn’t see anything at all, and the case died. Like everything else.”

_What would Ember say? _Castiel wished she were here, instead of with clients. Or maybe Sam, who had also been possessed by Lucifer. He had been possessed by Lucifer, too, of course, but it was different, because he was also possessing the body of Jimmy Novak. Jimmy Novak, who had died. At least Nick had _lived_ past his possession… “Nick - you, on the other hand, you’ve been given a second chance. You’re not dead.”

“You don’t understand,” snapped Nick.

A flare of indignation hit Castiel when he thought of Jimmy. _At least Nick had lived..._ “Oh, I do,” said Castiel.

“Why, because your body was stolen?”

“Because I am occupying someone else’s,” Castiel explained. “All angels have to, in order to walk the earth. This...this was Jimmy Novak.”

‘"Occupy,"’ said Nick, sounding out the word. “It sounds like a ‘cleaned up’ way of staying ‘steal.’ And Jimmy? Is that his name? Is he all right with that?” Nick was moving closer to Castiel, but Castiel stood his ground. 

“Yes, he was,” he answered solemnly.

“_Was_,” echoed Nick flatly.

“Jimmy’s dead,” said Castiel.

Nick’s eyes blazed as he moved closer to Castiel. “Castiel, you’re just a stone cold body snatcher. You’re no different than Lucifer.”

Hurt flared through Castiel, and he turned away from Nick, once more unable to look at him. “I need to look in on Jack,” he said. It was a poor excuse, and he knew it. Before he reached the door, however, he stopped. “You know, in all my thousands of years, what happened to Jimmy Novak and his family are my greatest regret.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“He’s right,” Castiel said later to Ember. “In that way, myself and Lucifer are the same.” 

Ember shook her head. “Cas, you have to stop beating yourself up for Jimmy. He’s in Heaven, with Amelia. He’s safe. And he gave consent. You never meant for him to die. He died so that thousands could live.”

He buried his face in her hair, smelling the addicting smell that smelled like demon, like attraction, but also like _home_. “I love that you think so well of me,” he said sadly.

The following day, however, Nick was gone. He had left a note saying that he had some “personal business to attend to.”

“Do you think he was ready to leave?” asked Castiel.

“Not really,” said Ember. “To be honest it never occurred to me that he _would_ leave. He has everything he needs here, especially if he’s looking for answers about his family. But maybe he’s looking for answers closer to where the murder happened.” She sighed. “He’s not _not_ ready, I suppose.”

Castiel could tell Ember was worried about Nick, and he pulled her closer in reassurance. They had both done their best, far more than anyone could expect of them. Castiel hadn’t sensed any innate evil in Nick when he had sifted through his mind, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. But no matter – if Nick became an issue, they would put him down, just like they had Lucifer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to zone in more on Cas' feelings about Nick, and how Ember would feel having Nick in the house. Not that I like Nick, though I don't dislike him either.


	78. The Scar

***Jo POV***

July 20, Very Late Night

Dean was back.

It had been weeks. 

Jo knew she had been reckless the past few months, but she hadn’t been able to help it. 

Somehow, despite all of her best efforts, she had fallen for Dean. She had replayed in her head a million times what she would do if Dean left, if he moved on to another woman, because that’s who Dean was. It was who he had been before Ember and after Ember – a player, untamed and wild, and that’s what she loved most about him. She’d still half expected that someday when she came back to the bunker from a hunting trip she’d find him with some other woman, and then she’d leave and never see him again. 

Jo was also realistic about a hunter’s chances in the world, and so had always been even more afraid (though they never discussed it) of Dean’s death at the hands of any number of creatures. 

What all of this amounted to was that somehow, in preparing her heart for the inevitable death or betrayal that was dating Dean Winchester, it had never really occurred to Jo that someday he would randomly make a decision to become an archangel.

Therefore, there was no closure. There was not the sadness or tears that she associated with death, nor was there the anger that Jo associated with betrayal. There was a more generalized anger and fear, at a nameless, faceless monster, which built and built until it exploded on whatever monster happened to be nearest.

She hadn’t brought Dean up in nearly a month, and had discussed the loss of him only when she was forced to do so. She knew Sam had sent Eileen to watch out for her and Claire after the incident with the vampires, and she didn’t like it, but she refused to talk about that, too.

But now none of that mattered, because Dean was suddenly back in her life, and she could tell he wasn’t any more ready to talk about it than she was. He told them that he didn’t remember anything after Michael had taken possession, but a brief look at Sam confirmed that Dean’s brother didn’t believe Dean any more than she did.

Jo’s only cue that Dean wanted her to ride back from Duluth with him in the Impala rather than with Eileen was a rough, “Comin?” as he ran his hands in reverence over his precious Baby. He was quiet on the way back to Kansas, but he held her close to him just a little too tight, and didn’t sing along with his usual favorite songs. Once again, a brief look at Sam informed Jo that he had not missed the change in his brother either.

Upon arriving back at the bunker, Dean said a few cursory words to his Sam, Castiel, and Ember before excusing himself to take a shower. Jo followed Dean to the largest of the bunker’s four bathrooms and knocked on the door. “Dean?”

The door opened a crack, and Jo disappeared inside it. She had barely gotten her bearings when his arms surrounded her and she was pressed roughly into Michael’s white button-down-shirt. It felt unfamiliar and too crisp, but smelled just enough like Dean that she tightened her hold around him, biting her lip so that she wouldn’t cry.

“Missed you,” he said gruffly into her hair as he cradled her head with one large hand.

She began pawing at Michael’s clothing, partially to reaffirm that Dean was real, and partially because it felt and smelled somehow wrong, and she wanted only the man beneath.

He was holding her so tightly that he didn’t seem realize what she was doing at first, but he eventually caught on and devested himself of the shirt. It went unceremoniously into the trash can. Jo’s navy blue blouse came off next, and went somewhere on the floor around her feet. 

When he kissed her, it was as though he was drawing breath for the first time – there was a hunger, but there was another feeling as well, Jo thought, that was far more exciting but also more dangerous. They had never had sex with this intensity before. Even when he moved to take off her jeans and underwear, and vice versa, he never allowed his hands to leave her body. He pressed his hands deeply into her skin, holding on more firmly than he needed, though never hurting her. Jo understood that he was in pain, and that this grounded him back in reality.

He clasped her wrist wordlessly and pulled her into the shower. For a few moments, they simply held each other under the hot water. She felt the moment when the strength left his muscles, as though he had finally willed them to relax, and he made a noise that sounded halfway between a sob and a sigh.

She stepped backward from him just for a second to get her bearings, and he moved to follow her as though he didn’t want to step away. She took a washcloth from the handrail and moved to gather soap from one of the bottles on a tall shelf, spinning in his arms. He took advantage of the angle to lean over and bury his face in her neck, nipping at it just slightly.

When she looked back, she saw, for the first time, a new, raised scar on his left arm. “Dean,” she whispered, and touched the scar gingerly with the wash cloth.

Dean looked down at the scar and and did a double-take. When he looked back at her, she saw fear in his eyes, and then, yet again, pain. She made to kiss the scar to reassure him, but he stopped her, and suddenly she felt him withdraw. The muscles that had finally relaxed a second ago became tense again, and he took a small step backward from her, fear still in her eyes. 

Jo understood – the wound was too mysterious, and Dean wanted Jo away from anything that represented Michael to him. She changed tact - she met his gaze, stepped back toward him, and began running the washcloth down his torso, biting her lip. He didn’t smile at her like he should’ve, but he tightened his grip on her once again and the fear left his eyes. He was like a wounded animal, she thought.

The shower was familiar, and they’d had sex before here (Jo thought perhaps twice) enough to know that the handrail was sturdy and would hold her weight. Jo backed herself into the handrail, dropping the washcloth and circling Dean’s erection with her hands. A second later he had hoisted her up onto the handrail and found her entrance, sucking a bruise onto a spot just above her breast.

She moaned, and he thrust deeper, finally back in a situation in which he had control, in which he understood. They came together, quickly after so long apart. 

Jo knew that Dean would attempt to get her back into bed sometime in the next day or so (if not that night), during which he would spend a long time making her orgasm with his mouth and hands before ultimately having more sex. She also knew that for now, he had needed something quicker, and somehow more intense. Most importantly, Jo knew that none of this would ever be communicated, and she preferred it this way. But he when held her against him afterward and whispered, “Jo,” she thought that it was perhaps the closest thing to “I love you” that she had ever heard him say.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

With the help of Castiel’s angel powers, Dean was able to remember that the scar was from the spear belonging to the cloaked ninja from the other world.

“How did she get into this world?” Ember asked, curious.

“No idea,” said Castiel. “But the rift is unpredictable at best. We have no idea what kind of magic Kaia and Jack together created down at that ferry. There hasn’t been any rift activity since I walled off Kaia’s mind, but there was a small window before that where she could’ve slipped through.”

Therefore, Jo, Dean, Eileen, and Sam headed out to Sioux Falls to meet up with Jody Mills and look for signs of the cloaked ninja. “Let us know when you get there,” Castiel said, gesturing to himself and Ember. “We can join you and help.”

Jo noted that ever since Castiel had regained his wings, he always offered to use angel transport to help the hunters get from place to place. With the exception of Ember, however, and very occasionally Sam if there was an emergency, most of the hunters declined the offer.

This time, in the wake of the Michael fiasco, he didn’t even bother to ask.

***Jack POV***

July 22, Early Morning

Jack should probably have been happy. He’d hated the idea of possibly having to kill Dean to kill Michael, and he was relieved that his family was out of danger. He’d barely gotten to say hello to Dean, however, before Dean, Sam, Jo, and Eileen had left again, this time in pursuit of whatever had created the scar they had found on Dean’s arm.

He’d wanted to join them, but he wasn’t strong enough. Bobby, Ember, and Castiel had been tiptoeing around his lack of powers for weeks now, but Dean had said what they all must have been thinking: “C’mon, kid, look at you. You’re barely 100 pounds soaking wet.”

And so he had gone to his room, upset.

It was time to set out again, he decided.

Truthfully, he had been thinking it for awhile. What good was he here? He wasn’t any better than an average human at firearms, or fighting – at best, he was average for someone who had had a little over a month of practice. He was fairly decent at research, but Sam and Krissy definitely had that under control.

Perhaps he should find a “human” job like Ember’s that could make him proud. Not a Therapist, certainly, but perhaps a doctor. Something where he could heal people in a more normal way.

He packed quickly and wrote a short note, which he left on the bed. It was odd, he thought, that neither Castiel nor Ember had come to look for him after Dean’s insult.

As he walked past the stairs toward the garage, he saw why. There was a girl on the bed in the infirmary, and Krissy, Ember, and Castiel were all talking in soft voices. Krissy must’ve returned from her recent hunt, then. She’d been taking advantage of her summer break from school to go on as many hunting trips as the Winchesters, Castiel, and Ember would allow; he’d only seen her a handful of times since the summer had begun.

Apparently, something on her hunt had gone wrong.

“Who is that?” asked Jack, his curiousity peaked.

“It’s a girl,” said Castiel. “She’s been enchanted.”

“Like Sleeping Beauty.”

“No, not like…this aging spell, it’s killing her,” answered Castiel.

“Can’t you just heal her?” asked Jack.

“No, I tried, but for some reason this magic is too knotty, so we contacted Rowena and she suggested a reversal spell. We’re reading up on it now.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Krissy asked. “I’ve barely seen you since summer began.”

Krissy’s hair was flying at a number of odd angles, and she had a pencil sticking out from behind her ear. There were mud stains on her jeans, and her plaid jacket was torn at the bottom. Jack thought she looked beautiful. “No,” he said.

***Dean POV***

July 22, Early Morning

It had been like Hell, only different.

There had been things he had tried to hide from Michael, secrets, like how much he cared about Jo, and the location of Castiel and Ember’s home (since Michael apparently had already found the bunker). He had tried to push these things to the dark recesses of his mind where only he could access them, but he wasn’t sure if it had done any good.

Michael had known that Dean was fighting him, and for that, he had kept him awake for much of the possession, though he had only occasionally been privy to Michael’s dealings. He remembered flashes and various events, but not clearly and not in a way that made linear sense. Dean remembered Sam giving a similar description of being possessed by Lucifer so long ago.

Most of the time, Dean had simply felt like he was drowning.

Sam attempted to discuss Dean’s time as Michael’s vessel on their way to Sioux Falls, which was not unexpected if highly unwelcome. Dean had a feeling Sam knew he had been lying about not remembering anything in between when he was initially possessed and when Michael had released him, but for now Sam was letting him pretend he could remember none of it.

Dean wasn’t ready to discuss it yet, and perhaps he never would be. Discussing it would put words to the fact that there was still so much that they didn’t know. Why had Michael released him? Where was Michael now?

It was these questions that concerned Dean most, because they meant that Michael could reappear at any time, possibly even without permission. What if he was hunting with Jo someday and Michael decided to reappear? 

Dean had always known that his days of happiness with Jo were numbered, though it had never occurred to him that he would be the one to end… whatever they had. For now… for now, though, for just a little longer, he could forget.

Maybe if he was really lucky, their group would be able to track down the cloaked ninja, obtain the spear, summon Michael, and kill him. Unfortunately, Dean reflected, his life barely allowed him small strokes of luck, much less the amount of sheer good fortune that that outcome would require.

***Jack POV***

July 22, Early Morning

Jack had spent quite awhile talking to the girl in the bed, Lora, while Castiel, Krissy, and Ember attempted to mix an appropriate potion. “The witch took me in, me and two other girls,” said Lora. “At first we didn’t wanna leave. She fed us, gave us all nice things. She was kind. She said having us there kept her young, but then she caught me, and she locked us up. Rachel started getting sick, just like this.” Lora held her hand up, which was withered and frail.

“Then Tally the same thing,” she continued, crying slightly. “They withered away to nothing. When Krissy showed up I thought I was saved, but then it started taking me too, even faster than the others.”   
Jack looked at her helplessly. He felt useless. Ember was on the phone with Rowena going over different options for treatment, Krissy was busy haltingly translating a potion that Rowena had recommended which appeared to be written in Ancient Greek, and Castiel was mixing various items together while answering Krissy’s questions distractedly. 

“My family is gonna fix this, I promise,” he assured Lora.

Krissy’s face was red, and her hair was falling out of the clip attempting to hold it to the back of her head. Jack resisted the urge to point this out to her, or to walk across the room and correct her hair himself.

“I think it’s ready,” Castiel said, and his voice startled Jack out of his trance.

Ember took Castiel’s hand, and Krissy held the Potions book up so that Castiel could see it. He waved it away, nodding to her that he had memorized the necessary words. “Tamin sa rawta, cantarmin rivatartaw, so valtor tarmin rivatartor, cantarmin sovartor, cantarmin rivatartor!”

The cauldron exploded, and Castiel and Krissy both jumped back.

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asked.

“I don’t know,” Lora said.

Jack began to feel infinitesimally better, when suddenly Lora began choking. It seemed to Jack that she fell backward in slow motion. In reality, before he could shout her name, she was dead.

In his head, Jack saw the burned and charred remains of his army, the army that Michael had killed in the other world. He saw the face of the security guard at the bank that had died accidentally when Jack had sent him flying into a pole, blood gushing from the back of his head.

_Failures_, all of them.

“Jack,” Castiel whispered.

“We let her die,” Jack whispered, and he realized that he was crying. “I’m sorry, if I still had my powers I could have saved you.”

_Powers._ An idea hit Jack with the force of lightning.

“Jack, what are you doing?” Castiel exclaimed as Jack jumped out of his seat.

“The witch!” he said frantically. “Where’s her body?”

“Downstairs,” said Ember. “Why-…”

But Jack was already speeding downstairs, Castiel, Ember, and Krissy in his wake. He found the witch’s body fairly easily on a tray in the tiny bunker morgue. It was protocol to bring back the body of the monster in situations where a survivor was still suffering from some sort of supernatural ailment, as well as in situations where the body in question would for whatever reason be difficult for the hunter to leave behind without drawing unwanted attention. Jack knew from speaking with Krissy earlier that this case had been both.

“The witch killing bullet,” Jack said. “It’s still in her!”  
“Guess so,” said Krissy matter-of-factly, but Jack could tell that she was attempting to be modest about what had probably been a relatively difficult battle and a good shot.  
“Jack, what is this about?” asked Castiel curiously.

“The witch told Lora that she and the others kept her young,” said Jack. “I thought it was a metaphor, like the witch was stealing her youth. But when you killed her, maybe the magic kept working, sucking Lora’s life force, trying to keep the witch young, to keep her alive! But it couldn’t work because the bullet was still inside her. So the magic worked harder and harder and consumed more and more of Lora. That’s why the reversal spell didn’t work. She wasn’t cursed!”

Jack spied a pendant around the witch’s neck similar to one he had seen around Lora’s.

“Lora’s life force is in here,” he said, taking the pendant.

“Jack, are you sure?” asked Ember.

“No,” he said. He smashed the pendant. Green smoke twirled out of it and appeared to filter upstairs in the direction of Lora’s room. Castiel grabbed hold of Jack and flew directly upstairs, leaving Krissy and Ember to run behind him.

Lora was gasping for breath on the bed. A second later she was completely back to normal, no longer covered in old, rough skin. “What happened?” she asked, looking shaken.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

A few hours later, Jack relaxed on the living room sofa at their Conway Springs home. He couldn’t help feeling proud of himself for his actions earlier. Actually, it was the first time since he’d lost his powers that he’d felt anything other than sadness or anger.

“Whatcha playin’?” a voice asked cheerily.

“Krissy!” he said happily. He very rarely saw her these days between hunts. Truthfully he’d wanted to talk to her for a bit after Lora had been brought back from the dead, but she had fairly quickly excused herself to take a nap. He couldn’t begrudge her, either – she’d driven through the night to bring Lora back to the bunker.

“Tetris,” he said proudly, pausing the XBOX game. “Dad and I play it at night sometimes when neither of us can sleep. Mom says it’s outdated, but it’s oddly satisfying.” 

Krissy rolled her eyes. “Ember’s right, it is horribly outdated,” she said, sitting next to him on the love seat.

The love seat was more than big enough for the two of them, but it wasn’t exactly large. Alarmed by her proximity, Jack moved an inch or so closer to the arm rest, looking around wildly for Castiel or Ember.

Krissy began to laugh. “Jack, calm down. Ember’s shut up in her room working, and Cas is still at the bunker.” To his horror, she swung her legs up until they were sitting on his lap. “There. Better?”

“Um… ngh… yes?” asked Jack, not sure how to react to this turn of events. _She was practically in his lap_…

Krissy rolled her eyes. _“Jack._ C’mon. We’ve been good for _a year, _staying away from each other like good little siblings and hardly even talking. With all of the hunting trips I’ve been on lately, I’ve seen you even less than usual. And we’ve just _worked together _to save a girl from a nasty witch. Who, _by the way,_ I killed with probably the best bit of shooting I’ve done in my life.”

Jack smiled at the pride she exuded. 

“Anyway, bottom line, your Mom and Dad aren’t gonna mind if I put my feet in your lap on the damn couch.”

“Oh-oh-oh-kay,” Jack said. He was reassured, and also caught off guard at her nearness. He felt as though it was making him think more slowly than usual.

“So tell me about the, uh, the witch,” Jack said, searching around for something to talk about.

He thought he had sounded stupid, but Krissy smiled at him and began a long story about her most recent hunt.

***Dean POV***

July 23, Evening

The trip had been an epic disaster. It played on repeat in Dean’s head as he drove the Impala back to the bunker. 

The four of them (Dean, Sam, Jo, and Eileen) had managed to hook up with Jody Mills. Then they’d followed a trail of beheaded vampires and werewolves to ultimately capture the cloaked ninja from the other world. She’d looked exactly like Kaia – another universe’s version of Kaia, Dean had realized. She’d been connected to this universe’s Kaia in her mind, until Castiel had taken the dreamwalking ability away from her.

“How did you cross over?” Sam asked her once they had captured her in a small cabin in the woods. “How did you open a rift? Why are you here?”

“You mean right here?” Kaia asked. “’Cause of him.” She nodded to Dean.

Dean flinched. “Yeah: not him, not Michael, not any more.”

“I know,” Kaia said, smirking. “You’re much weaker.”

“Maybe, but you’re still scared,” he challenged, moving closer.

“Not of you,” she said. “Of them.” She gestured outside, and Dean knew she was referring to the monsters that Michael had created using his angel grace. He had created vampires and werewolves that were immune to dead man’s blood and silver.

“The monsters he sends after me,” Kaia explained. “Every time I slow down there’s more. There’s always more.”

“Guys, we should move,” Jody said. “Let’s take her to the station just to be safe.”

“No,” snapped Dean. His chance was getting away. “We need to break her, right here, right now.”

“Break her?” asked Sam in confusion. “What do you mean break her? For what?”

Even Jo shot him a quick frown of alarm.

“He wants to know where I hid my weapon, that’s all he wants,” snapped Kaia. “That’s what this is all about.”

Dean felt an unnatural anger rise up within him as Jody asked, “Dean, what...you’re gonna hurt her, torture her?”

“That pig sticker she’s hiding, it is the only thing that we know that hurts Michael,” Dean snapped, impatient. “I’m gonna do whatever it takes.”

He turned back to Kaia. “Where is it, where’s the spear?! Where IS IT!!?” But she only smiled at him.

Around that time, the monsters had come crashing in on them. They’d been outnumbered, and Dean had ended up freeing Kaia, or “Dark Kaia” as he’d come to call her, so that she could help them fight.

“Dean?” asked Sam from the seat next to him in the Impala. Sam’s voice brought him back to the present moment, and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. He looked in the rearview mirror, where both Jo and Eileen slept soundly.

“You were right,” Dean told his brother gruffly. “I just didn’t want to look at it, what Michael used me for. I just wanted to race ahead. You know, skip to the end of the story. The part where I get the weapon and I take out the bad guy. The part where I kill Michael.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said, nodding.

“You know I said yes to him because I thought… it was stupid,” Dean finished. “I was stupid.”

“Dean, you did what you had to do,” said Sam.

“And it wasn’t a blink, being possessed,” Dean finished, determined to get everything out. “I made it sound like that, but it wasn’t. I don’t remember most of what Michael did with me because I was under water. Drowning. And that I remember. I felt every second of it - clawing, fighting for air. I thought I could make it out but I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough. And now he’s gone. He’s out there putting an army of monsters together. He’s hurting people. None of us are safe. That’s all on me, man. I said yes. It’s my fault.”

Sam didn’t say anything for a very long time. They both knew Dean wouldn’t believe his reassurances anyway.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Dean waited until Sam and Eileen had headed into the bunker, then stopped Jo before she filed in behind them. “Look, Jo… I can’t…”

Dean paused, gathering strength. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. This was so fucking stupid.

“These past few months…” Nope. He needed to just do this the quick way.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Like ripping off a band-aid.

Jo’s face, far from being angry as he had expected, was confused. “Wait… you’re breaking up with me? _Now?_ _Why_?”

Before Dean could respond, Jo said, “Hold on. Wait. This is… this is for my safety or something stupid like that, isn’t it?”

“Jo… Michael might repossess me at any moment. We don’t know. We don’t know why he left, or when he might come back. I didn’t mean to drag you into this…”

“You didn’t drag me into anything!” Jo exclaimed. Apparently now the anger had kicked in. Jo moved closer to him, backing him slowly into the Impala. “I came of my own free will because, God forbid, I thought you had finally started seeing me as an adult!”

“I _do_ see you as an adult, Jo!” Dean exclaimed, surprised and suddenly indignant. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, and I can’t justify-…”

“God damn you stupid Winchesters!” she exclaimed, poking her index finger into his chest and taking another step forward. “If it isn’t your brother or Cas you’re sacrificing yourself for, it’s someone else! Did it ever occur to you that it’s my damn decision whether or not I want to be put in harm’s way, if it’s for someone that I care about?!” 

Dean got the impression that she’d been about to say “for someone that I love”, but had changed her wording at the last second. Either way, it certainly hadn’t slowed her down. She had backed him up against the side of his own Impala in her fury, and proceeded to snarl angrily at him.

“Well, I-…” he tried.

“When you stop treating me like a child and start treating me like a grown woman – oh, and when you decide that maybe it’s _okay _if you have something for _yourself _for a change - you give me a call, Dean Winchester!” she yelled.

“I…”

But she had already stalked off toward the yellow death trap she called a car.

Dean stood still for a second, not quite sure what had happened. He had expected more tears and less… whiplash. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure whether he had actually managed to break up with Jo, or whether she’d somehow managed to break up with him instead.

Dean decided to get drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love playing with Jo and Dean as characters. They were both pretty richly developed in the show, and it gave me a lot to work with.


	79. Optimism

***Ember POV***

Fall

The seasons turned quickly from summer to fall.

Krissy broke up with her boyfriend near the beginning of August. After that she devoted herself full-time to hunting until she went back to college in September. 

There were several hunting trips completed as a family. On one memorable hunt, Cas lost a hand to a rugaru and needed a full week to heal. On another, Krissy made use of the gun with Devil’s trap bullets that one of the Apocalypse World survivors had perfected to kill four demons in a row.

In early September, one of the survivors, Arlo, was killed on a routine werewolf hunt. Castiel arrived on the scene a moment too late – Arlo had barely managed to get out half a prayer before his heart was ripped out. It was one of Michael’s werewolves. Castiel felt guilty for a few days, but not as much as Jack (who blamed himself due to his lack of powers) or Dean (who blamed himself for everything).

As September turned into October, reports of Michael’s werewolves and vampires multiplied exponentially, though there was no news of Michael himself. Ember knew that Sam and the survivors were running themselves ragged fighting the things, and she helped as much as she could.

***Sam POV***

Fall

Sam and Dean stayed busy as much as possible. Dean refused to discuss his break-up with Jo, but after he’d returned from his trip to find the spear he hadn’t left his room for a week straight. He had eventually gone out on various other hunts, but even this didn’t seem to cheer him much.

It was Halloween before Sam finally felt as though he had his brother back. Dean had gone up against a life-sized replica of “The Hatchet Man”, one of his favorite monsters from old horror films. It had been possessed by a ghost, and the brothers had narrowly been able to burn the set of keys to which the ghost had attached itself before Dean was strangled by the giant replica.

The fight had been a close one, but Sam hadn’t seen Dean as proud of a victory since he had killed Hitler. Afterward, Dean slowed down on his hunting trips and began to make friends with a few of the survivors also living in the bunker.

It was a good thing, because Sam needed as much cooperative help as he could get. At least half of the Apocalypse World survivors were sent out on a hunt at any given time, usually in pairs but not always. He had gotten good at scavenging, sharing, and assigning gear, weapons, and food. Ember typically helped out by providing money that she’d gotten by using her powers of invisibility, usually from large corporations. 

Still, reports of Michael’s werewolves and vampires continued, almost faster than Sam could address them. There were other monsters to hunt, too, of course, and Sam tried to rotate the hunts so that no hunter would be constantly hunting Michael’s beasts (unless they preferred it that way). On Ember’s suggestion and with Apocalypse World Charlie’s help, Sam gave each of the new hunters body cameras so that they could record their hunts to learn from each other. On Eileen’s suggestion, he created a series of hunter check-ins requiring each hunter to check-in at a regularly appointed and monitored time when they were on a hunt. 

In early November after a particularly rough hunt against a djinn, Mary and Bobby moved into Donna’s cabin and took some space away from hunting. Sam also wasn’t sure how he felt about Mary and Bobby apparently being a couple. Sam had never seen the two of them kissing or even holding hands in public, but he could tell that they had grown closer. They spent an awful lot of time together, and preferred to hunt together.

“If they get _married,_” Ember said on one occasion as the two of them watched Mary and Bobby leave in an old black truck, “It wouldn’t make us like… step… siblings, would it?”

“No,” Sam had answered firmly. “Because it’s Apocalypse World Bobby, not your actual father.”

“Good,” said Ember, seeming relieved. “That’d be weird, especially since…” she gestured at Dean, who was grabbing a beer out of the fridge. Sam nodded in understanding.

Ember appeared to ponder the situation for a second, and added, “He reached out to me, you know? One day when I was here manning the phones. He asked me what the old Bobby was like, how he died and all that.”

Sam had wondered, though he had never pried. “I wondered if he would,” he admitted.

“He ended up telling me to call if I ever needed him,” Ember said. “I miss Dad, but…” She shook her head. “Sometimes it’s like Dad’s here with us, but then I remember that he’s a different man with different experiences.”

“It’s like that with our Mom, too,” Sam said, attempting to relate. “I never knew her growing up, you know? She knew me when I was a baby and now again in my 30’s, but… never in between.”

Ember shook her head. “Our lives are _weird.”_

All in all, the bunker was almost quiet again, like it had been before the Apocalypse World survivors had come to live there. By now, all but nine of them had moved into houses or apartments nearby, and most of the ones living at the bunker were out on hunting trips more often than they were home. 

Even Jack and Krissy were gone quite often; Jack was on hunting trips most of the time, and Krissy had moved back to Conway Springs for college during the school year. Sam couldn’t help noticing the smallest of changes in Krissy and Jack’s behavior toward each other as well. He was aware that Krissy had broken up with her boyfriend recently, and he noticed that the girl seemed once again more inclined to spend time with Jack if the two of them happened to be in the bunker together. Jack, too, seemed to have lost the fear with which he had avoided Krissy the previous year. Sam was far too busy with the survivors to watch the situation as closely as he would’ve liked, however. Besides, Sam reasoned, Jack spent most of his time on hunts and Krissy at school, and Jack no longer had the option to simply fly to visit her at his whim. So, Sam resolved to not think about it.

***Jack POV***

Fall

Since he’d lost his powers, Jack felt useless most of the time. It was like he’d told Dean one fall day when the two of them were talking. “I could have killed Michael. Here, when I was strong enough, I could have. But there was so much going on and then everything else happened because I was distracted and stupid and-…”

“Hey!” Dean exclaimed, cutting him off. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

Somehow, though, the reassurances of his entire family didn’t make no longer having powers any easier. If he’d been stronger, sharper, more powerful, he could’ve killed Michael before he had taken over Dean. He could’ve killed Lucifer, too. 

But it was too late for that.

The month of Dean’s absence had been the worst. Jack tried his best to learn to fight and shoot like a normal human, mortified and guilty about his failure with Michael and Lucifer. 

Things had become easier after Dean returned, and more recently when he started having success on hunts. Castiel, Ember, and occasionally Sam usually did the majority of the heavy lifting and fighting, but Jack had by now thrown several well-aimed punches and knew his way around a machete. He’d killed his way through more than two handfuls of Michael’s grace-powered vampires and werewolves, and though he wasn’t what he would consider a “good hunter”, Sam had said that he “showed a lot of promise”. He’d also showed a good aptitude for research and information gathering, which had afforded him a small bit of pride.

Then, about a month ago, the coughing had started. When he thought about it, he’d been coughing off and on since he’d lost his powers, and he always felt tired. But the blood hadn’t started until sometime in October.

He knew that coughing up blood wasn’t a good sign, but he also refused to give his parents and the Winchesters another excuse to quarantine him to the bunker. He was finally beginning to feel happy again! So he hid the bloody Kleenexes and learned tricks to suppress the cough.

Krissy had been a large part of this new happiness. They were talking either online or on the phone nearly every night now. After hunts, they would often seek each other out to discuss their hunting trips.

Their time together face-to-face was limited, because Jack spent quite a bit of time at the bunker and on hunts and Krissy was still in school in Conway Springs, except for when she herself was hunting. When they would see each other, however, Krissy would often sit shoulder-to-shoulder with him, or with her feet on his lap.

He knew for a fact that Sam and Dean knew nothing about this, though Ember and Castiel were well aware. 

“How do you feel about her?” asked Ember one day in mid-October. Castiel was at the bunker discussing the Michael situation with the brothers, and Krissy was at school. It was a rare opportunity for the two of them to speak uninterrupted over dinner at a fast food restaurant. 

Jack thought about his answer. “I don’t know,” he said. “I have strong feelings for her, like before. But with everything that’s going on…” He sighed. “I think it’s nice to have a… friend. A friend who is not an adult, that I can talk with.”

Ember smiled. “I thought as much.”

“You don’t mind?” Jack asked.

“No,” said Ember. “I would’ve understood if you’d gotten together, as long as everyone was being safe about things.” By now Jack understood that Ember was referring to using condoms. “You have no blood relation, and can barely even call yourselves siblings. My only concern was and is Krissy’s safety and your own. You’re human now, but protection is no less important, with Krissy or with anyone else.” By now Jack understood this to mean “Even if you don’t have to worry about having a half-angel baby, you’re still too young to be having children.”

“Oh,” Jack said, digesting this. 

“It’s Dean that will be the issue,” Ember reminded him.

“Oh,” Jack said again.

***Jack POV***

November 17 

**FOUR MONTHS LATER**

It was mid-November before Jack went on a hunt with Dean as a hunting partner. Part of this was because Dean, according to Sam, “needed time to figure out his own issues”, and part of it was pure happenstance: Ember and Castiel had gone to Europe for Ember’s birthday, and Sam had gone with Charlie on a hunt in Tennessee. It had turned out to be a more eventful hunt than the recent ones that had ended in the demolishing of one of Michael’s grace-powered creatures. 

When Jack returned to the bunker, he was excited to find that Krissy had just arrived for the weekend. He waited until Dean had gone to his room to take a shower before dragging a wooden chair next to Krissy’s large blue overstuffed chair in the bunker library.

“Jack!” she exclaimed when she caught sight of him. “How was your hunt?”

So he proceeded to tell her.

“…So then Dean thought up a plan for how to get information from Harper, the librarian,” Jack was saying 5 minutes later. “He went in first and flashed his FBI badge, and he told me to come in after him and ask about a book on the area’s history. And then I was supposed to act like I didn’t know Dean and be really rude to him and tell him to back off from talking to her. He said it would ‘make me look like a bad-ass’ and then Harper would talk to me. And it worked!”

Krissy looked up sharply from her laptop. “That crap only works on sluts and crazy girls,” she said, frowning.

“Well, she was certainly crazy,” Jack agreed. A cough overtook him then. It had been happening a lot more lately. 

“Jack, aren’t you over that cold yet?” she asked.

He waited until the coughs subsided, swallowing down the blood he knew had come up. “It’s gotten worse since the hunt,” he admitted. “I probably just need to lie down. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Krissy said, though she seemed skeptical. 

“So anyway,” Jack continued, “Harper invited me over to her house to pick up a book to loan me. And when we got there, I did all of the normal stuff, you know, dropping a quarter to test if she was allergic to silver-…”

Krissy’s eyes widened. “She invited you to her _house?”_ Krissy exclaimed.

“Yeah, I thought that was really weird, too,” said Jack. “And then she asked me if I believed in love at first sight. And I thought she was going to have sex with me, until her zombie boyfriend-…”

“So some crazy librarian floozy gets to have sex with you, but I don’t?” Krissy said sarcastically.

Jack felt suddenly as though he’d fallen off a steep cliff.

“I… you… what?” he asked.

Krissy looked embarrassed but indignant. “C’mon, Jack. After we – after last year, you’d run out of the room as soon as I came into it. It wasn’t until you – until recently that we started being friendly again. But I thought, since you’re, you know, human now…”

“I-…”

“Jack!” Dean called from the kitchen. “Beer? C’mon, let’s celebrate! You survived your first zombie!”

“I-…” he looked from the kitchen to Krissy again. He was pretty sure Dean wouldn’t approve of their conversation, but he could also sense that this wasn’t a good time to leave said conversation.

“Go ahead,” Krissy said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Okay,” he said, standing up. Then he turned back to her, a thought striking him. He whispered, “I’d love to have sex with you!”

She let out a long laugh, and he disappeared into the kitchen, his heart still pumping with adrenaline. 

Halfway there, another coughing fit overtook him.

Then everything went black.

***Ember POV***  
  


November 17

A vacation, at last. 

Ember couldn’t remember taking an honest-to-goodness vacation since Castiel had taken her to Miami when they were first dating.

It hadn’t been a normal vacation, though. They’d started in Bora Bora for two days, then gone to downtown London for two days, and finished up in Paris. Ember had had to fend for herself in Paris for a few hours while Castiel attended to a prayer, but all had gone well and Castiel had returned with all good news. It had been a relaxing vacation for both of them, complete with sight-seeing and a lot of sex.

Castiel had used Ember’s birthday as the occasion for the vacation, but Ember had a strong feeling that he was planning on proposing. Therefore it didn’t surprise her in the least when he explained that they’d be spending the last few hours of their vacation “someplace special.”

Ember and Castiel arrived in what was obviously a cave, but Ember had never seen a cave like it. The cave would’ve been almost completely dark were it not for a thousand twinkling magical candles floating in the air of different colors. They lit up an incredibly large cavern, closed except for a small opening in the top that let in moonlight. Castiel and Ember were standing on what looked like a very large stalagmite big enough for several people to stand on, surrounded by water on all sides. It was covered in soft grass and algae.

“Oh my… where are we?” Ember asked Castiel in surprise.

“Do you like it?” he asked. He had been constantly asking this throughout the vacation, as though the answer would ever be anything negative.

“It’s beautiful, Cas,” Ember said.

“It’s the world’s largest cave, called Hang Son Doong,” Castiel said. “But it’s inaccessible to humans this time of year due to the water level… unless you can fly into the middle of it.” He was obviously very proud of himself, and Ember agreed – he had quite outdone himself.

“Ember,” he said seriously, and he put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you. Maybe since the first time I went into your mind. I’ve loved you when I was an angel, and when I was a human, and I’ll love you for the rest of my life, however long that may be.”

_Oh my God._

Castiel got down on one knee, gingerly placing himself on the algae. He fished into his pocket, and pulled out a ring. “Ember… will you marry me?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, warmth and adrenaline bubbling up inside her. She hugged him, and they both tumbled over into the algae. 

A minute of rearranging later and both of them were laying on a blanket Castiel had brought with him as well as his trenchcoat. Castiel was smiling unabashedly; it was the happiest she’d seen him in ages.

Castiel wordlessly took Ember’s hand and held up the ring, which Ember had by then forgotten entirely.

“Right!” she said, slipping it on her finger and taking a closer look. The ring was flat with three stones in the middle. The stones were bright white, and Ember thought they looked like diamonds encased with –

“Cas, is that angel grace?”

“Yes!” he said excitedly, his smile becoming wider and turning into a grin. “My grace, actually. It’s a failsafe… if you ever get into trouble, and for some reason you’re unconscious, my grace will call to me of its own accord. I’ll be able to find you and help. It’s not enough to call attention to you, though – there’s a spell to make it undetectable except to me.”

“Wow, Cas, this is perfect!” Ember exclaimed.

But Cas looked horrified. As if in slow motion, his eyebrows knitted and his mouth dropped into a large “oh.” He grasped Ember securely by the arms, and Ember barely registered that they were about to fly somewhere before she was whisked away from the cave of wonders and back, abruptly, to reality.

***Jack POV***.

November 24

There was white walls, and dizziness. A hospital.

Sam’s, Dean’s, Cas’, Ember’s, and Krissy’s worried faces.

Ember and Krissy were crying.

He felt weak.

The medicines they gave him for the pain and the coughing helped. If he was honest with himself, he felt better physically than he had in at least a week or two. 

Then he was back home, and Rowena was there. She had bad news.

“I’m sorry, lad. No one has ever seen a creature like you. One fourth demon, one fourth human, and half angel… the mixture has never existed before. Your grace is what holds the rest in balance, and when it was taken, your being fell into chaos.”

She shook her head, and she left.

Jack looked at his mother, who was being held by his father. “Am… I dying?” he asked.

Ember sobbed harder, but Castiel gave him a resigned nod. “We’re doing everything we can, son,” he whispered. 

“How… how long do I have?” he asked the room at large.

It was Sam who finally answered. “A few weeks,” he said. “But… but don’t give up hope yet.”

Sam, Dean, Castiel, Eileen, and Ember immediately put their energies into finding a way to keep him alive. Jack couldn’t remember a time when all five of them had stayed at the bunker for more than a day or two without hunting, much less weeks at a time. Still, both Ember and Castiel uprooted their lives in Conway Springs and moved into the bunker full-time with no notice.

Despite everyone being engrossed in research and busy consulting with witches and shamans from around the world, they seemed to have made an unspoken agreement that at least one person was by Jack’s side at all times. When he was awake, there was almost always someone nearby. He was encouraged to “sleep as much as he wanted” and “drink more water” and “eat more soup.” He felt crowded and fussed over.

By the third day after he fell ill, he had had enough. He was feeling a bit better (probably due to the pain meds) and wanted to get out of the bunker. Luckily, Dean was amenable to the idea. He and Dean went to get a burger and then went fishing, and Dean even let him drive the Impala!

Shortly after he returned, however, he fainted, and afterward the coughing returned in full force. He knew it had been his last sojourn away from the bunker, and he mourned the things that he wouldn’t get to do before he died, like going to a beach or taking a vacation.

There was still a long list of things that Jack wanted to do before he died that he could do inside the bunker, however, such as talking about Heaven and angels with Castiel while everyone else was asleep, thanking Sam for taking him in when nobody else believed in him, and maybe even making out with Krissy. He was fairly certain he didn’t have the energy for sex – or, at least, he didn’t have the energy to be _good_ at it. He wondered whether it was worth risking his health to exert the energy to lose his virginity if he spent most of the act coughing up blood.

Ultimately it didn’t matter, because Jack had barely seen Krissy since he had fallen ill. A couple of hours after Jack had returned home from his initial hospital visit, Krissy had had to return to Conway Springs for school.

“I shouldn’t have said anything to you,” she said during one of the few times he had a minute alone to text her. “I didn’t know you were sick.”

“I’m glad you did,” Jack said. “I’ve been sick for awhile, I think. I didn’t want to tell anyone.”

She sent back a sad face emoji with tears. He guessed that she was probably actually crying – she had done that a lot since finding out that he only had a few weeks to live.

Krissy wanted to skip school and come spend time with Jack, but Jack didn’t want either of them to risk Dean’s anger just before he died. They compromised and agreed that she could visit on Thursday afternoon because she had only morning classes, and again on the weekend. 

It was late Saturday afternoon before either of the two of them got a moment alone, however. Castiel had planned a trip back in time for the afternoon to meet up with a Native American medicine woman he’d known at the end of the 17th century. Meanwhile Dean, Sam, and Eileen had made arrangements to meet with a shady black-market dealer in South Dakota claiming to have bottled the grace of Michael. They were fairly certain that it was a trap and that they would be met with more of Michael’s grace-fueled monsters, but they wanted to turn over every leaf. Only Ember was left to manage the hunters still out on various missions, but she was called away to an emergency with one of her clients.

Krissy and Jack both listened for the small _click_ of Ember’s bedroom door and the low hum that meant she was talking on her webcam.

Krissy immediately stood up from her post beside his bed where she had been typing on her laptop, and Jack moved over on the bed to make room for her. “Finally, we’re alone,” Jack murmured, leaning into her side as she settled herself into a sitting position. He tried to sit up next to her, but she stopped him. “Listen Jack,” she said softly. “As much as I’d like to, I… I don’t want to be responsible for making you… I don’t think we should…” 

Jack’s heart turned over to see Krissy, who was normally so bold with her words and actions, about to cry. He sat up, forcing down the cough that threatened in his throat, and used his finger to dab at a tear. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’re probably right.”

She looked relieved. He moved closer to her until their lips were finally touching. He made no move to roll on top of her or move his hand downward or any of the things that normal teenage hormones would dictate. Instead, he moved his hand back to her face, enjoying the feel of her next to him and the slide of her tongue, and her smell of peaches. That, at least, he could still have before he died, and he wanted as much of it as he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the time jump.


	80. The Byzantium

***Castiel POV***

December 6

Jack died on the evening of December 6th.

Of the few people that knew Jack the best, Castiel was expected to handle Jack’s death with the least amount of tears and sadness. Angels, though they do feel emotions, are better equipped to put them in perspective after living for centuries on end. Castiel was also unique among the group of them in that he could see Jack whenever he wanted, as they were all fairly confident that Jack would go to Heaven.

Even for Castiel, however, the loss of a son was the greatest pain he had ever felt. In Heaven, the soul is happy for the rest of time, but unable to continue to grow or learn. That was the biggest loss, and Castiel would have gladly underwent hunger, torture, thirst, or even heartbreak a million times over if it meant Jack’s life could have been saved.

Ultimately, Castiel felt that what his friends expected of him was unfair, but he kept this thought to himself because it wasn’t helpful to anyone.

Ember’s first response after Jack’s death was to demand that Castiel visit Jack in Heaven to “make sure he was okay.” Castiel immediately denied the request, reminding Ember for the fifteenth time in two days that Jack would be healthy and fine in Heaven – it was Ember he was worried about.

Dean in particular, but also Sam, Ember, and even Castiel himself were prone to self-sabotage and irrational actions at times like this. Castiel wasn’t quite as worried about Sam since he had Eileen now, but he had no plans to leave Ember or Dean alone for long enough to make a trip to Heaven in the near future, no matter how badly he wanted to see Jack again. 

For the past three weeks, Castiel had felt the darkness in Ember’s mind. When their minds were connected (either during sex or to pass information) he noticed new pathways in her mind, all of which led to deep, dark pools of despair. She had never denied him access to her mind before, but these days Ember’s mind erected a barrier in front of the new paths, refusing to allow Castiel to follow her into the deepest parts of herself.

Ember had been through a lot – heartbreak, and the two demon blood bonds, and learning that her father had been Azazel. She was strong, and it was one of the reasons he loved her so much. But this… this was different, and he worried that it might finally break her, for good this time.

It took over an hour to gently pull her from Jack’s side. When he did, she demanded, “Where are my pills! They were here last night!”

“You don’t need them,” he said gently, and he could already see her gearing up for a fight.

“I’ll put you to sleep,” he added. “Like I used to do, in Asmodeus’ prison.” 

Krissy asked for Castiel’s help sleeping as well. She had sobbed silently, and hadn’t let go of Ember’s hand. Within twenty minutes, both of them were asleep on Ember’s bed, still holding hands, the tears still shining on their faces. They would be asleep for the next 8 hours, at least.

Castiel spent the rest of the night with Dean, Sam, and Eileen, who had decided to get extremely drunk.

***Sam POV***

December 7, Just after midnight

Sam tossed and turned in his gigantic bed.

After the first few times he rolled over, Eileen gave a sharp sigh.

After a few more times, he felt her soft hand dance over his. “You’re not drunk enough_,” _she said.

He didn’t answer. “Talk to me.”

Sam sighed, turning to look at her. It was still light enough that she’d be able to see his face in the moonlight.

“I failed him,_” _he said.

“No,” Eileen shook her head. “You did everything you could. You showed him what it was like to have a father. You protected him, and fought for him when others wouldn’t.”

Sam resisted the urge to turn away from her praise and cut the conversation off. “It wasn’t enough,” he said, and he felt that he was crying. “Eileen, I know you want to… want to… but how can I? I can’t even… I can’t even…”

“What have I told you,” she said gently, reaching up toward his cheek. “It’s not your job to right the wrongs of the world. Not you alone. If I never have a child, I’ll still love you.”

“I know, darling,” he whispered back. She never pressured him, and he was grateful for it.

He knew that, deep down, she wanted a child. He also knew that Eileen was like him; she felt fortunate enough to have finally found a compatible partner and a soul mate, and for them, a child seemed too much to ask for. He was lucky to have found her; as much as she wanted a child, she would never blame him or resent him if he denied her, as she had never really dared to dream it in the first place. Still, to bring a child into a world so full of monsters seemed foolhardy, especially now when his failure with Jack was so fresh, when he felt it most deeply.

As he had so many nights before, he wracked his brain for something – anything that might help. It felt too late now, but Sam had learned a long time ago not to give up on what he wanted for something as simple as death.

And then, sometime just before the haze of sleep, he thought of the answer.

***Ember POV***

December 7, Early Morning

“Ember. Ember, wake up!” 

Ember awoke quickly. It was like being hit by a mac truck. _Jack was dead._

Ember rolled over the side of the bed and narrowly avoided vomiting.

Castiel side-stepped. “Steady,” he said, and Ember realized with surprise that his eyes were smiling. “Sam’s had an idea.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Sometime in the early 1900s, Lily Sunder was a professor of apocalyptic literature who had studied angels and even learned Enochian. Eventually she had managed to summon an angel named Ishim. Ishim had fallen in love with her, but he was a monster, and Lily had ultimately sought protection through marriage with another angel named Akobel. 

Ishim became angry and led Castiel’s old garrison of angels, including Castiel, to kill Akobel as well as Lily’s daughter, May. At the time, Castiel had believed that May was a Nephilim, though it wasn’t true.

Lily had evoked soul magic to get revenge on Ishim; she gained immortality, but each time she used her powers she lost a piece of her soul.

Contacting Lily and getting her help was a long-shot. Sam’s hope that she would be able to decipher some of Kevin’s scribblings about the angel tablet (and that said scribblings would be helpful) was even farther-fetched, but they had to try.

Lily surprisingly came willingly, but was unable to read the prophet’s scribble. To everyone’s shock, however, she had another idea. “You said your Nephilim boy, Jack, without his angel grace, his human body died?” she asked. “My magic draws power from the human soul. It could save him.”

“You’d give your soul up?” asked Sam.

“Not my soul. His,” she said.

“Absolutely not,” said Ember, sharing a look with Sam.

“Pass,” said Dean, and Krissy nodded from where she stood next to him.

“It’s not his entire soul, obviously,” said Lily. “As long as he’s only using it to sustain his body, it won’t cost much. He’ll never miss it.”

“What are we even talking about?” Dean asked. “It’s too late. Jack’s dead. His soul’s gone, right?”

“Maybe not,” said Castiel. “If Jack is in Heaven, I might be able to pull his soul into his body. It would only be for a few seconds.”

“That’s all the time I need,” said Lily. “If I can open the door, your boy could use my magic to stay alive.”

And so, for the first time in weeks, Ember felt hope.

***Castiel POV***

December 7, Noon

Castiel hadn’t been to Heaven since April, and it hadn’t been a pleasant visit. Noami’s return to leadership in Heaven left a bad taste in his mouth. He hated the way she’d redecorated, the starch white walls and hallways reminding him of an earthly hospital. 

This was nothing compared to the news that there were only a few angels left on Earth, however. Castiel had known their numbers were few, but this… this was devastating.

Since that time, he’d dared to hope that perhaps Gabriel or Jack would have an answer. Jack in particular was strong enough to make new angels, though he would have to be carefully guided. Castiel barely trusted himself, much less _Naomi._ Then Gabriel had died, and they had saved the world from Michael and Lucifer, and then Lucifer had taken Jack’s grace.

Now, angel radio was playing a distress signal. He’d first heard it that morning, while the others had begun to discuss their attempt to bring Jack back. _All _of the gates to Heaven were now open, even the ones Metatron had closed. 

Castiel hadn’t even thought this possible. It meant only one thing – an invasion, from a very powerful force. He managed to get away from the rest of the group without saying anything about his suspicions, but he had a bad feeling that he knew who had invaded Heaven.

He hated it when it he was right.

Zuriel was dead, overcome, and Naomi too was swallowed up by the blackness. Castiel could recognize its handiwork in the giant, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach the moment he had entered his old home.

“The Empty considers Jack its property,” Naomi had said.

And Castiel ran.

Jack wasn’t in the Heaven labeled with his name. He must’ve known where he was and went exploring. The angel part of Jack wouldn’t let the dream-Heaven take over, not completely. 

Would he have gone to see someone else here? Bobby, maybe? Or maybe… On a hunch, Castiel flew to the Heaven of the autistic man, the garden full of flowers and kites.

A familiar calm overwhelmed him the moment he set foot in his old slice of Heaven. It had been _so long_ since he had been here himself… he thought briefly of the times he had spent here with his old friend Domiel. If you put all of the times they had spent here together, Castiel mused, it must equal more than a century. He wondered what Domiel would think of Jack. Would his old friend be proud of him?

And there was Jack, talking to the autistic man. “Cas!” he said, his face lighting up as the two of them hugged. Even though it had only been a few hours, Castiel was flooded with relief at holding his son again.

Jack stepped backward and motioned to the garden. “You talked about it so much sometimes, and I wanted to see… I was hoping…”

Castiel smiled. “Jack… it’s time to go,” he said, clapping his son on the shoulder. He explained the situation, starting with Lily Sunder and ending with the Empty.

“Why does the Empty want me?” Jack asked, his eyes opening with fear.

“Because you’re half-angel, and we angels-- when we die, we go to another place. It's a place that's just endless nothing. And this entity-- it won't stop until it finds you, but if you're not here, if you're alive…”

“Then it'll leave Heaven,” Jack said, nodding.

“Smart,” said a voice behind them.

“Dumah,” Castiel said in surprise. The other angel had crept up behind him.

“Try again,” Dumah said, and Castiel and Jack watched in horror as black nothingness overtook the angel Dumah. It was the Cosmic Entity from the Empty.

“You’re the Empty,” Castiel said, stepping in front of Jack. He had no hope to win in an outright fight – he had learned that at their last meeting. Perhaps they could run? But for how long?

“Pretty good, huh?” the Entity said, resuming Dumah’s form. “Are you ready to go?” She held out her hand to Jack.

“You stay away from him,” Castiel threatened.

“Castiel, you know how this goes,” said the Entity. “The good souls here, the bad souls there. The angels are mine.”

“Enough,” said Castiel firmly.

“Stop interrupting!” cried the Entity. “Start paying attention. I'm taking him. And where I'm taking you is worse than Hell… because at least Hell is _something_.”

She paused, and Castiel stared back determinedly, poised to give a signal to run or to fight. He had to wait for the signal from Sam and Dean. Any minute now…

“Ohh. Ohh, God, they look scared!” the Entity said, sounding gleeful. “Does that hurt you? Good… because I want it to.”

He waited until it moved the tiniest bit forward, then struck with his angel blade. As expected, the Entity flung him through the sky, and he skidded backward on the grass with a groan. The Entity followed him, kicking him repeatedly until he was curled in on himself in front of a stone bench.

He heard the prayer, then, _finally:_ “_Cas, I hope you can hear me. We’ve got Jack. His shell – it’s ready to go. Here’s hoping that you’re staring at him right now. So if you are, then, uh, do your thing, okay? Amen.”_

But the Entity had Jack by his button-down shirt, and it was seconds away from sending Jack to where Castiel would never see him again-

“Take me!” he yelled.

The Entity froze. “A little louder, please.”

“Take me in his stead! Take me!” Castiel said, louder, because it was the only answer now. It had always been the only answer, ever since Jack had resurrected him more than a year before.

“You?” the Entity said, turning to him, but still holding onto Jack.

“I'm the one you want. I'm the one who woke you up,” he said, firmly.

“You? But you're already mine.” But the Entity released Jack and turned toward him fully.

Castiel’s life flashed before his eyes, such that it was. He had just fallen in love, learned what it meant to be human, gotten engaged… perhaps it was right for everything to end in this garden. “Not for years… eons maybe. But if you'll agree, I will go now, and I will go willingly.”

“I want the demon girl too,” the Entity said harshly. “Your _lover.”_

“_No,” _Castiel said, moving forward in his anger. “That’s not part of the offer. She will go to Heaven, when it is time, when she has lived a full life.”

The Entity laughed, grabbing once more at Jack’s shirt. “I have been inside her head before, angel. She will never leave your side. But…” she narrowed her eyes at him. “I will make you this deal. I will take you both, when you are _happy._”

Castiel could only look at her in confusion.

“You see, I want you to _suffer. _Go back to your normal life and forget about this, and forget about me. And then, when you finally give yourself permission to be _happy,_ and let the sun shine on your face, that's when I'll come. That's when I'll come to drag you to nothing.”

“No,” Castiel said, and his anger seemed to shake the autistic man’s Heaven, little blue electricity rocketing up and down the man’s kite.

“I don’t think you understand,” said the Entity, moving even closer and becoming more silent in its own anger. It dragged Jack with him, frozen by its powers. “You and your wife later. Or your son now. _Decide._”

To Castiel’s horror, the blackness of the Empty began to crawl up Jack’s feet.

“I accept!” yelled Castiel in desperation.

And then the Empty was gone.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The reunion had been the best day Castiel had had in a month. There was crying all around. Lily Sunder had given her life for the reunion of their family, the last piece of her energy for the spell it required, and she was burned in a hunter’s ceremony that night. Dean cooked cheeseburgers, and the group of them stayed up talking until late into the morning.

It was marred only by the secret that Castiel and Jack kept from the others.

It could never be kept from Ember, though, who of course knew immediately that something was wrong. She had asked him all evening if everything was okay, but it was only after they returned to their own home, to their own bed, that he dared explain to her about their new fate. With trepidation and guilt, he placed the necessary images in her mind like showing a movie.

She hugged him, and began to cry.

“I’m sorry, Ember,” he said, feeling more guilty than ever. “I’m so sorry I failed you. I--…”

“You never failed me, you silly angel,” she whispered into his shirt, squeezing him tightly. “You must know there is nothing I wouldn’t give up for Jack.”

“I couldn’t let the Empty take him,” Castiel whispered into her hair. “I couldn’t -…”

“We’ll find a way,” Ember said. “Or we won’t. But at least we’ll be together.”

“But you-…”

“Cas!” Ember said sharply, looking up at him, and he stopped.

She put her hand on his cheek, her eyes shining with tears.

“Cas, our son is alive because of you. Let’s be honest, how often are we really and truly _happy_?

“And…” she smiled wetly, kissing him through his tears. “If it means our son can continue his life on Earth? An eternal sleep, with you, doesn’t really sound so bad.”

She kissed him deeply, and he melted into her, mind and body. Even now, more than 10 years after they first met, his love for her increased every day. His attraction to her (both that which occurred naturally and that which occurred as a result of her powers) hadn’t waned either, still threatening to make his vessel hot at a moments’ notice.

She undressed him slowly and carefully, a welcome change as he was usually the one initiating. Today he was content simply to hold her and touch her. 

Once he was naked, she moved downward and took him in her mouth, and his hands fisted the pillow. He enjoyed the soft feel of her tongue before finally reaching down and hauling her upward.

Wordlessly she smiled, lined herself up, and then sat down, fully sheathing him inside of her. “Cas,” she whispered, and began rocking on top of him as he moved to touch where she needed him most.

He had learned a lot over the last few years – where she liked to be touched, how to make it slow and torturous until she finally exploded, and how to draw out her orgasm with magic until she was a gasping mess, despite being on top. He used all of these things to his advantage but still came sooner than he’d wanted – in the wake of Jack’s death, neither of them had felt like having sex lately.

She didn’t seem to have noticed. “I still think you’re cheating with the whole grace orgasms thing,” she said breathlessly afterward.

“Maybe I am,” he said, now in a somewhat better mood.

She laughed. “I love you, Cas.”

She didn’t voice her thoughts allowed, but in her post-orgasm haze he managed to catch them anyway: “_If I was any happier, the Empty would take me.”_

***Sam POV***

December 7, Evening

“Do you know,” Eileen said, turning to Sam in their bedroom. “You might be a better father than you thought.”

“I – what?” Sam said distractedly. He was still wrestling off his shirt. The elation and relief of bringing Jack back to life was still charging through his veins. Only an hour ago, they had held the hunter’s funeral for Lily Sunder, and his shirt still smelled of ash from being the one to handle most of the wood and fire.

“Lily,” Eileen said. “Asking her to help was _your _idea. _And, _you helped Lily as well. She went to Heaven, despite all of the odds against her.”

Sam smiled, allowing himself to bask in the pride of his own victory just this once. “It’s a pretty big win, isn’t it?”

“Sam, you know I’m not getting any younger,” Eileen said gently. 

Sam’s eyes opened wider, his wife’s earlier words finally registering.

“If we don’t have a child, you know I’ll still love you,” Eileen said. “You know that, darling. I just don’t want you to regret it later.”

Still proud of the victory with Jack, Sam allowed himself to truly consider a child for the first time. He would have to hide Eileen and the child, the way Ember and Castiel did with their home. The child would take Eileen’s name, Leahy – they’d discussed this when they’d married, though Sam had never really believed it could come true. 

It would be difficult, but, perhaps, doable. He thought of a boy with Sam’s gangling height, perhaps a younger-looking Sam with Eileen’s smile, and courage, and intelligence. Or a girl, a younger-looking Eileen, perhaps a bit taller. The thought made him smile wistfully. He would raise his child right. He would teach him (or her) how to defend himself, but still allow him to be a kid. 

But Dean…

“When the Michael situation is resolved,” Sam said, taking Eileen’s hand.

She looked genuinely surprised. 

“Eileen, I… I want to have a child with you. And I know your time is running out, has run out already. When we figure out what to do about Michael, I promise you, we’ll try for a child.”

“Sam…” she whispered reverently.

She looked beautiful in her simple black nightshirt, her hair down around her shoulders for once and framing her face. “In the meantime,” he asked… “Could we practice?”

Eileen nodded and moved forward. She turned her face away, and he could’ve sworn that he saw a tear coming out of her eye, but she was smiling. He moved to bring her face up to his, but she began kissing his chest instead.

He changed tact, taking down the strap on her nightshirt and kissing her shoulder, and backing her up slowly onto the bed. She pulled his shorts down, and they both tumbled haphazardly onto the bed.

He kissed her then, and tasted salty tears. “Eileen?” he asked, moving back to look at her so that she could see the movement of his lips.

“I’m happy,” she whispered, pulling him back down to press against her.

“I love you, darling,” he said, murmuring the words against her cheek.

“I love you too,” she said.

He reached for her nightshirt and hoisted it off of her, then began lavishing kisses on both breasts. She let out a breathy moan. “Darling, it’s been two weeks,” she complained, pulling at his boxer-briefs. It was true; the last time they’d had sex had been more than a week ago, and that had been hurried and miserable, a way to cope with their grief.

He chuckled, but obediently shucked his boxer briefs and pulled her panties down as well. He licked at her sex until she was moaning with need, adding fingers as well. It wasn’t long before she was panting and arching her back, legs clenching around his head as she came.

Finally, he lined himself up and pushed into her heat. She cried out, but moved to pull him further in, and they moved together in earnest. It was a dance they knew well, and it wasn’t long before they were tangled in a sweaty heap, happy and sated.

***Jack POV***

December 7, Evening

Jack was whirling with emotions.

First and foremost, he was guilty. He wished that Castiel hadn’t had to offer his and Ember’s life to defend him from the Empty. Castiel said that it was his place, as his father, to do so, and he felt certain he’d have done the same if he was a father. 

He hoped that Ember wasn’t mad, but the longer the evening continued without a screaming match, the more unlikely her anger seemed. Ember rarely got mad at Castiel, and when she did, it was almost always because he did things without consulting her. Usually it involved little things, ranging from going on an unplanned hunting trip involving demons to surprising her by showing up randomly right next to her. Either way, if Ember was angry, Jack would know.

Jack even worried that perhaps Castiel wouldn’t tell Ember. He’d made Jack promise not to tell Krissy, at least not yet, but he had promised that he would tell Ember, since she was directly involved.

Jack felt even more guilty for how happy he felt. He was back from the dead, by some blessed miracle. Not only that, but he was back at Ember and Castiel’s. He often preferred to stay at the bunker because it was the hub of the hunting world, but after a month of being sick at the bunker, he was glad to return “home.” Ember and Castiel’s was quieter, warmer somehow, and Krissy was more likely to be there.

He wondered if he could summon the guts to go to her room and visit her. He never had before, though she had come to his room off and on in the evenings on the few occasions where they had both happened to be home from a hunt.

Sex had been on the table at one point, before he got sick, and even after, though they had decided against it because of his sickness. Would it still be on the table? Should he ask?

Just as he had decided that he didn’t have the guts, he heard her familiar soft knock.

When he let her in, she was wearing a purple bathrobe. She sat on his bed.

“So, you’ve never… had sex before, right?” she asked.

He noted that she was nervous (though not as nervous as he was). She had always been a solid force, sharp like a firecracker, but now she was looking away from him and fidgeting.

“No. I… we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

She locked eyes with him. “Do _you _want to?”

“Of course! I-…”

“Good.” She stood up suddenly and let her purple bathrobe drop.

His jaw dropped along with the bathrobe. She was wearing a sheer purple negligée that looked like it had come straight out of a porn. He was relieved to note that she didn’t have high heels on as well. With the high heels, he felt she would’ve looked intimidating; this just looked sexy.

He seemed to have frozen, which made her smile softly. She put her arms around him and began kissing him softly. One arm threaded into his hair, and her lips were soft and pliant against his.

Adrenaline began charging through his veins, and it seemed that his body knew exactly what to do, or at least want it wanted to do, but he fought against it.

He cast around for things he had read on the internet, which, truthfully, had been his only real education about _this _part of sex. Dean had been less than willing to offer tips ever since he’d caught Jack kissing Krissy, and he’d been too scared to ask Cas or Sam. _Foreplay…_

Krissy took control again, rubbing herself against him and making a moaning sound when she found that he was aroused. He thrusted back against her, which made him shiver with pleasure.

Krissy helped him strip off his shirt and pants, and he pulled off her lingerie. She was beautiful, and he thought he might’ve came, except that he was too damn nervous. He mumbled, “You’re beautiful,” and she laughed against his mouth.

She broke away from him and fumbled around where she had shed her bathrobe. He recognized a condom wrapper, and allowed her to put the condom on him – better her than him, since she probably knew what the hell she was doing.

“Oh! Right,” he said, reaching around her and fumbling around in his bedside table. He opened a small bottle, squirting a drop onto his tongue.

“What’s that?” asked Krissy.

“My own birth control,” he said awkwardly. “Uh, Mom and Dad mixed it for me back when I had my angel powers, in case I wanted to ‘experiment.’ It was super awkward.”

Krissy rolled her eyes.

She reached for his hands and placed them on her breasts, effectively ending his inner monologue about birth control. She moaned again into his mouth when he touched her nipples. He felt a hand on his erection, and this time it was him groaning as she wrapped a hand around the base-

He could feel it, could feel himself getting more excited, too excited, and he moved backward from her. She gave him a confused look.

“I… don’t want… can I touch you?” 

She smiled, and she seemed to understand. She guided his hand down between her legs. He felt her, inside and out, learning and cataloging what made her breathe heavier, what made her moan.

Finally, she grabbed him again, and this time he moved closer to her. _How do I…_

She seemed to understand the question he wanted to ask, and she guided him inside, letting out a satisfied groan.

From there, Jack acted on instinct. He loved the way she looked, somewhere on the way to pleasure, and he couldn’t _not _thrust. He clumsily inserted a hand to the spot he had learned she liked best, and she groaned as an orgasm washed over her. 

Jack followed her over the edge, stars popping behind his eyes.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN—

Two minutes later, he lay somewhere between satisfied and terrified. She had curled up against him, and he awaited her reaction. It had only been 8 minutes since she had come in. That was bad, right? It wasn’t, like, _horrible, _but it was _bad._ Should he try again? Was he allowed to touch her?

But at the same time, _WOW_…

“That was… a _lot _better than I thought it’d be,” said Krissy, turning in his arms to stare at him. She was smiling, which he took as a good sign.

“Uh… thanks?” he said.

She laughed. “I didn’t really expect to have an orgasm,” Krissy said. “The first time always sucks, y’know. My first time, I didn’t even get off.”

Jack finally relaxed, allowing himself to smile fully. “So it didn’t totally suck?”

“No,” she said, laughing into his chest. “It didn’t totally suck.” 

***Ember POV***

December 8, Morning

As usual, Castiel was there when Ember awakened. She knew he never stayed with her through the night – he went either to the bunker to assist with the hunting front, or else to a variety of hospitals to perform tiny miracles that would be well received but never traced. Occasionally if she’d awaken to go to the bathroom during the night, he’d be gone. 

But he was always there in the morning.

“Energy boost?” he asked, holding up a finger when he realized that her eyes were open.

“’s Saturday,” she said groggily. “I’ll wake up on my own.”

Castiel raised his eyebrow impatiently, and Ember realized he had news.

“What?” asked Ember. “Spit it out.”

“Your children are having intercourse.”

Ember sucked in a breath as her stomach rose to her throat. Then she sighed, resolutely sitting up. She was fully awake now. “I _told _you I’d wake up _on my own_.”

***Jack POV***

December 8, Morning

Jack wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel different after losing his virginity, but he didn’t. He was kind of happy it was over, to tell the truth, because he felt like moving forward things were going to be easier to navigate. He felt that he had at least put forth a moderate performance, and things could only get better from here.

He was more worried about how he was supposed to act around Krissy going forward. He was the first one up, so he got started on eggs. By the time Krissy awoke and came downstairs, the eggs were starting to get cold, and he had to reheat them. 

She thanked him and gave him a knowing smile, and he smiled back.

“So, last night,” she whispered to him, smiling.

“Last night,” he said, grinning back and taking her hand.

They were eating in silence and grinning lopsidedly at each other when they heard footsteps.

“Shit,” said Jack. “They’ll know.” He dropped her hand.

“No they won’t,” Krissy hissed. “I took a shower before bed. He can’t smell it – wait, can he?”

“Yes,” Jack said, “And he can read hormone levels.”

Krissy’s face paled as Ember and Castiel came into the room holding hands. Ember wore a bathrobe, and Castiel was dressed in his usual trenchcoat attire.

Castiel sat opposite from them at the table and leveled both of them with a stare. They looked at him curiously, terrified of what this might mean. This was not, after all, unusual behavior for the angel, but it could mean trouble.

Ember gave them a small smile and went to the fridge to grab milk, using her powers to gather a bowl and cereal.

“Hey, Ember,” Krissy said, braving a wan smile, and Jack gave her a look of encouragement. “I’ve got a metric ton of homework today for my Advanced Latin project, so-…”

“Hold on,” Ember said, pouring the milk on her cereal. “Let’s talk a bit first.” 

Krissy shot Jack a scared look.

Ember sat down in her normal place at the table, nursing her cereal. “So, Cas tells me you two are together now,” Ember said, smiling but breaking eye contact with her son a moment too soon.

“Yes,” said Jack factually.

Krissy groaned.

“Now we’re only going to have this conversation once,” she added, then thought a moment. “That’s not true. Honestly we’ll probably have it at least once a month as a refresher.”

Krissy groaned again, putting her head in her hands.

“Krissy.” Castiel said sharply, and her head shot up. 

The tone of the room had gotten serious with the sound of his voice, and it felt as though the room had dropped several degrees.

Ember put her spoon down. “I know this conversation is awkward and uncomfortable, and, I hope, unnecessary,” Ember said. “But I can’t stress enough the importance of protection.”

Jack swallowed hard, but neither he nor Krissy dared speak.

“Just because Jack doesn’t have his powers right now does not mean he wouldn’t produce a half angel. We don’t know, and we don’t want to find out. You wouldn’t survive it, Krissy. Not if Castiel was by your bedside, not with all of the healing powers of a seraph and all of the magic Rowena could provide you. You’re human. You’re a damn good hunter, but you’re human.”

“I know,” Krissy whispered, looking at the table.

“Angel and demon anatomy isn’t like human anatomy,” Ember continued. “It’s stronger. Use magic and a barrier method.”

“We are,” Jack said. Ember had told him once that if he wasn’t responsible enough to talk about sex, he shouldn’t be having it.

“Good.” Said Ember. Her voice turned gentle again. “I can’t lose you, Kris. But I understand what it’s like to love a supernatural creature. You’ve always been more responsible than I’ve given you credit for. Don’t prove me wrong.”

“I won’t,” whispered Krissy again, finally meeting Ember’s eyes. 

“And finally,” Ember added. “Logistics. Keep it upstairs, and remember, the walls aren’t soundproof. You don’t want to hear us, and we don’t want to hear you.”

“Ember!” Krissy exclaimed, burying her head in her hands again.

“Also, more importantly. I’m not gonna tell Dean, but the two of you will need to be more careful at the bunker. Dean’s busy with… other things, and he’s dense on a good day. But Sam will be a lot harder to fool, and Eileen will be almost impossible. You two are way more obvious than you think you are, even without Castiel’s powers giving you away.”

Krissy looked stunned by this news.

“If Dean finds out, you’re on your own,” Ember added with a jovial smile. “I can’t save you, and I’ll plead the fifth. Comprende?”

“I understand,” said Jack with a smile.

“Comprende,” muttered Krissy, peaking out from between her fingers.

“I’ve got work to do upstairs,” Ember said. She sent the bowl across the kitchen to rest in the sink.

Krissy and Jack looked at each other, then at Castiel, who was still staring at them awkwardly.

“Cas!” Ember shouted from the other room.

Castiel stood up, startled, but collected himself. “If you’re responsible enough to have intercourse, you’re responsible enough to talk about it,” he repeated, and disappeared.

“It’s _sex__, _Cas,” Krissy grumbled, her head in her hands. “It’s called _sex_. And I’m going to go die now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually dislike writing sex scenes. I never feel like I get them right. And this chapter had 3 of them, so I procrastinated a whole whopping lot.
> 
> I'm starting to realize that this fanfic is super hetero. Sorry to you Destiel people out there; I have two of those, too, but this one is kind of my primary fanfic.


	81. Nihilism

***Ember POV***

December 24, Night

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

The Winchesters, Castiel, and Ember had big plans for Christmas. It was Sam and Eileen’s first Christmas as a couple, and Ember and Castiel were newly engaged, after all.

All of this went to the wayside, however, when news about Michael finally arrived.

First, Dean and Castiel managed to locate and retrieve the spear from “Dark Kaia” on the morning of Christmas Eve. At the same time, their old friend Garth, a werewolf who ate only animals, went undercover and was able to successfully learn more about Michael’s location and his plan.

Michael was planning a siege on Kansas City, MO, on Christmas night. Castiel flew all over the United States retrieving hunters to help battle Michal’s army of creatures on short notice, and only barely made it in time for the final showdown.

In theory, the plan was simple: a select few (Dean, Cas, Ember, and Jack) would infiltrate the apartment where Michael was known to be staying. Meanwhile, Sam, Eileen, Krissy, and nearly 150 other hunters would fight Michael’s monsters on the ground.

Ember understood the strategy, which had been Castiel’s idea. Castiel and Ember would go up against Michael because they were the team’s two strongest players. Michael would almost certainly be expecting their onslaught, which eradicated the necessity for the element of surprise, and suggested that the most magical strength would be beneficial. Jack would go because he was an extra hand that Michael seemed unwilling to hurt. 

“And Dean?” Ember asked.

Castiel sighed. “I’m not convinced Michael is done with him. If I’m wrong, Dean will come in handy as his quest for vengeance against Michael makes him all the more determined. If I’m right…”

“If you’re right, you want to keep an eye on him,” Ember said, and Castiel nodded.

“There’s not a way you can look through Dean’s mind and make sure it’s not still open to Michael?” Ember asked for what must have been at least the third time over the last few months.

Castiel shook his head. “Not for an angel like Michael,” he said. “He’s too old and too strong. I know my way around the human mind pretty well, but I have to admit when I’m bested.”

Meanwhile, while they fought Michael, an entire town was at risk, from Michael’s monsters. Sam would lead the charge on the ground, with Eileen and Krissy by his side.

“We have to remember -- Michael will sense my approach,” Castiel said after arriving to meet the others in the parking garage below Michael’s apartment. They had already beheaded the two vampire guards there, and had been waiting on Castiel to finish “hunter transport” so that they could all face Michael together.

“Zero element of surprise,” said Dean.

“Walking right into a trap,” crackled Sam’s voice over Dean’s phone.

“Which is set by a full-power archangel,” added Castiel.

Dean scoffed. “Impossible odds. Feels like home. Let's roll.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Castiel and Ember were supposed to go first, as decoys. “He won’t kill me,” Castiel whispered to Ember as they lied in wait. “This world doesn’t have enough angels, and he’ll want to find out what I know before he finishes me off. He won’t kill you, either – you smell too good.”

“Thanks?” Ember said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t like the idea,” Castiel added. “So I’ll go first, and you only step in if he incapacitates me before I can give Jack and Dean a clear window. Understood?”

“I hate this plan.”

“I know.”

Michael was coming closer now. He had taken possession of a woman this time. “You do realize I can feel you in here,” he said as he slowly came around the corner. “There's really no need to be-…”

Castiel attacked from behind.

“…Coy,” Michael finished.

Ember attacked from behind, but Michael ducked, sensing her coming. Both Ember and Castiel went after Michael once again, but he sidestepped both of them. Castiel attacked wildly, and he kneed his groin, then forced him up against a wall, weaponless.

“Cas!” Ember screamed, and she attacked wildly and obviously. Michael batted her away, and she crumbled against the wall, just as she’d expected. It had been a decoy attack, however… behind her, she sent an angel blade through the air straight at Michael’s heart. Michael didn’t see the angel blade coming, but she still managed to dodge it at the last second in her effort to push Castiel further into the wall. As it was, the angel blade sliced through her arm, and she cried out as it drew blood.

“Bitch!” She threw Ember through the air, and she landed in a heap on the floor. Pain shot through Ember’s foot, white-hot and burning. In the background, she could see the fuzzy forms of Castiel and Michael fighting, but she could no longer see straight. There seemed to be two of everything…

“Tell me something, Cas,” said one of the two Michaels dancing across Ember’s vision. “Where’s your entourage? Well, hey, if they want to miss all the festivities, well, then that's their loss.” She punched Castiel in the face. “But I’ve got a schedule to keep!”

“Cas!” Ember screamed, and she attempted to stagger after him, but toppled over in her effort to stand. White-hot pain once again shot through her body…

Michael was dragging Castiel away, and Ember was screaming.

There were several agonizing seconds after that where Ember wasn’t sure what was going on. She dragged herself slowly over the floor, unable to put any weight on the leg. There was blood on the wall, but she couldn’t tell how much, because she still couldn’t see straight…

There were noises coming from down the hall in the other direction, and Ember redoubled her efforts. Finally, painstakingly, she opened the door to the room where she could hear noises. There was Jack and Castiel… standing, so they must be alive!

Dean was standing too, facing the window, and Michael… Michael was lying on the floor! He was dead! 

But no… something was wrong. Dean was holding the spear… and his eyes flashed blue.

Ember’s world faded to black.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Ember’s eyes flew open, and she looked around wildly. 

“Shhhh!” exclaimed Castiel, edging her back down onto the bed. His face was covered in blood.

“Cas!” Ember exclaimed. “What’s wrong? What happened? Where’s Jack?”

“He’s fine, everyone’s fine,” Cas explained. “Michael took possession of Dean again, but he’s handcuffed. He’s here, at the bunker.”

Ember made to stand up, and pain shot through her leg… but she stayed standing. It wasn’t the kind of pain she’d had before that made her feel like passing out, and she was no longer seeing two of everything.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said. He spoke in an heir that was barely more than business-like, and Ember could tell that he was eager to get back to… something. Probably Michael. “Everything’s been taking too much power. I brought you all back to the bunker, including Michael, and then I’ve healed you up. Your ankle was shattered and sprained, and you had a concussion. I’ve healed the concussion, and your ankle is knitted back together, but I have to save energy for the fight ahead. You’ve still got a bad sprain, so try to take it easy.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ember said, following Castiel out of the door of the bedroom they had been using at the bunker.

***Castiel POV***

December 25, Early Morning

Michael was under control; the cuffs were holding him, at least for now. Now, it was Castiel’s job to go inside Michael’s mind and search for Dean. Hopefully Dean could fight back, (like Sam had done when possessed by Gadreel, although Michael was much stronger). The chances were slim, but this had never stopped them before.

Sam had been chosen to accompany Castiel instead of Ember, for several reasons. First, Sam was closer to Dean than Ember was. Second, it would be easier for Castiel to maintain any kind of mental connection with Dean than if Ember had come, because, frankly, demonic minds were naturally resistant to divine control.

Most importantly, Ember was needed to help Jack hold down the fort. Michael had redirected all of his monsters to come rescue him in Kansas, and Team Free Will was racing against time until they arrived.

When Castiel went to retrieve Michael, he was busy terrorizing Jack. With his angel hearing, Castiel could hear him all the way down the hall. “I know how sad he was when you died...on the outside. On the inside, it's not that he was happy… he just didn't care. 'Cause you're not Sam. You're not Cas. You're a new burden that he was handed. You're a weak, helpless thing. You think that they care about you, love you? You're a job, a job none of them wanted. And you-…”

“Go help your mother,” Castiel said. “You and Ember have to keep the monsters out.” Jack made to leave, but Castiel stopped him. “Wait! Don't believe anything he says. He's lying.”

“I can still hear you,” said Michael.

Ember and Jack retreated, and Castiel turned to Michael.

“Look at you,” he said. “How the mighty have fallen. You’ve fallen pray to your baser instincts with a _demon_, of all things. Nothing like the Castiel I knew. He would've never been so... pathetic.”

The barb hurt, but Castiel didn’t let on. “You're confusing loyalty and love with weakness,” he answered.

“Tell me,” Michael said, keeping his voice even. “Why do you love this world enough to risk your own life?”

“Tell me,” Castiel shot back. “Why do you hate this world enough to burn it to the ground?”

“Because I can!” Michael said derisively. “Because... Me and my brother - my Lucifer - when we fought in my world, we thought that God would come back, give us answers. Why He'd gone, what we'd done - but, instead, do you know what happened? Nothing. No God. Nothing. And now...now that I'm in here - now I know why. God - Chuck - is a writer, and like all writers, He churns out draft after draft. My world? This world? Nothing but failed drafts. And when He realizes that they're flawed, He moves on and tries again.”

Castiel felt as though he’d been burned. He reeled from the insult, despite his effort to keep his emotions in check. He didn’t think it possible that he could be more disappointed in his father, but something Michael said rang true. “No, that's not how...Why would He do that?” Castiel asked.

“Because He doesn't care!” Michael yelled. “About you, me - anything. Now, at first, I thought I'd do it better. Show Him. Be more God than God. But now... I just want to burn every one of His little worlds until I catch up to the old man.”

“And then what?” Castiel asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Even God can die,” Michael replied.

“Cas!” Sam said from the doorway, shaking Castiel out of his disappointment. “’You ready?”

“Yeah,” said Castiel, standing up and gesturing Sam to a seat next to Michael. “Okay, I’m going to connect to Dean’s mind, and you should be able to hitch a ride with me.”

“Well, I like this plan,” said Michael evenly. “See, out here, I'm all chained up. But in there... you're all mine. So... what are we waiting for?”

Castiel started to speak, but Sam put a hand on his arm, silencing him. Castiel nodded at him, taking his hand and putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

Seconds later, they were surrounded by the blackness of Dean’s mind. Castiel hadn’t been in Dean’s mind since he had remade it ten years ago, but it felt the same. It felt… righteous. There was no other word for it. Not tantalizing and heavenly like Ember’s… Dean was thickness and fire and brimstone, and his mind pulsed with his desire to protect those around him.

The feeling remained as strong as ever, and Dean’s mind welcomed Castiel, recognizing him to be a friend. Despite this, search as he might, he couldn’t find Dean’s consciousness, which he found concerning. Castiel waded through the darkness, trying to key into Dean’s current thoughts, but everything seemed hazy.

“Cas… where are we?” said Sam, appearing next to him.

“In Dean’s mind.”

“Then where is he?”

“Excellent question.” Castiel raised his hand and shone grace on the blackness. He could hear, more sharply now, some of Dean’s past traumatic experiences.

“We had a deal!” said Dean’s voice in the background. Castiel recognized the experience as one of Dean’s more recent memories, from when Michael had taken him over.

“Did you ever stop loving Castiel?” said Dean’s voice, this time in a quiet, hushed tone.

Castiel had never heard this, but knew immediately that it must’ve been a conversation Dean had had with Ember at some point. 

“_No,” _came Ember’s quiet response.

“Will you ever love me again, the way you used to?” came Dean’s voice again.

_“I’m sorry_,” came Ember’s. 

Cas looked at Sam with a silent plea.

Sam waved his hand in the air, as if to say, “_It’s all in the past.”_

Castiel could hear screams, then, and realized they were memories from when Dean was in Hell.

“There’s so much,” he said, shaking his head. The memories were more, even, than when he’d remade Dean’s mind before – trials added to trials, with no breaks in between. “So much trauma in Dean's mind. So many scars.”

“Well, yeah,” Sam said. “Dean's been through a lot, but he's strong.”

“Sam... you've both been through a lot, and Dean is more than strong,” said Castiel. “What I meant was, if I knew... if I knew what I was looking for, I could just -- I could simply go to it.

But because Michael has Dean trapped away, drowning, I have to wade through all of Dean's most terrible memories.”

“Cas, wait a second,” said Sam thoughtfully. “Would Michael bury Dean in trauma?”

Castiel turned towards Sam, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Michael said it himself. The reason he left Dean in the first place was because Dean was fighting back so hard.”

“So, if Michael wanted to keep Dean placated...”

“Dean thrives on trauma,” said Sam. “I mean, he's had to his whole life, right? It keeps him alert, keeps him ready, but if I wanted to distract Dean, I-I... I'd give him something he's never had before.”

“Contentment,” realized Castiel.

“Exactly,” said Sam. “So maybe, instead of looking through his bad memories, maybe let's, uh... maybe let's look through his good memories.”

Castiel raised his hand again, light glowing from his palm. This time, he banished the bad memories and called to the good memories.

“I think I'm adorable…” came Dean’s voice from the background.

“I love you, Ember. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Dean,” came Ember’s reply.

Castiel felt the squirming in his stomach that had become so familiar during the time he and Ember had been apart.

“Wait a second,” Sam said, breaking Castiel out of his reverie.

“Still working that ghoul thing in Wichita with Cas,” Dean’s voice was saying. “They should be back tonight. So that sale that you want so bad, well, it’s not gonna happen.” --- “Are you just gonna leave the drunk guy out there with all the booze?”

“Yes. Definitely,” said Sam, thinking aloud. “Cas...This has never happened. There. Let's go there.”

***Dean POV***

???

The bar made Dean happy. Jo made Dean happy. Everything was going perfectly, and Dean was happy.

So happy… but at odd moments he would have the weirdest since of de ja vu!

But no matter.

Cas and Sam were back from Witchita! “Hey, there they are!” he said as the two walked in. “Kill a ghoul, get a beer.”

“Dean?” Sam questioned, looking almost scared.

“Got this great IPA from Austin – Cosmic Cowboy. You’re gonna love it.”

“Hey, Dean, what's going on here?” Sam asked.

“What are you talking about?” he answered. Everything was normal. Good, even!

“Cas! Sam!” Jo said excitedly, walking out from behind the bar to give them each a hug. “I’m glad you're back safe. I was starting to worry.” She leaned in to whisper to them, then headed back to his side behind the bar.

Castiel and Sam both furrowed their eyebrows and leaned in to talk to each other quietly.

Dean placed drinks on the bar. “Hey, what are you guys waiting for? Drink up.”

But Sam just looked annoyed. “None of -- None of this is real, okay? This -- This bar, uh, uh, Jo…”

“Excuse me?” said Jo angrily, marching up to Sam and staring directly up at his enormous height. “You've never met anyone more real than me, Sam Winchester.”

“You're just a complex manifestation of Dean's memories designed to distract him,” Castiel said tiredly.

“Bite my manifestation ass,” said Jo.

“Okay, listen to me," said Sam forcefully. “You have to remember what's going on out – out in the real world.”

“I know it's raining,” said Dean, unconcerned. “What else do I need to know?”

“No, I'm not talking about the rain,” Sam insisted.

And then that odd feeling of de ja vu again.

“So, are you guys gonna tell us about the hunt or what?” asked Dean, shaking it off.

Sam looked confused. “Okay. What? You were just...What the hell is going on here?”

Sam was acting like he had gotten some sort of whiplash. “Okay. All right. Now you're starting to worry me. What is going on?”

Sam and Castiel were covered in blood. Had they always been covered in blood? Did they come in covered in blood and he just hadn’t noticed? There was that weird de ja vu feeling again.

“You guys got really messy on that ghoul hunt, huh?” asked Jo jovially. 

“No, we didn't get messy on a hunt,” Castiel snapped. “We got messy just now, in this bar, in a vampire fight.”

Jo looked at Dean skeptically. “Maybe we should rethink the beers,” she said.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. He was starting to get that odd prickly feeling at the back of his neck that he got whenever there was a monster nearby that hadn’t jumped out of the background yet.

“Okay, Dean, listen to me,” Sam said, business-like. “I think you're stuck in a loop in your mind. Michael is possessing you. You have to remember that.”

“Michael?” Dean asked, surprised.

“Yes,” said Sam.

“Michael's in the Cage,” Dean said. “Come on, guys. What is this -- some kind of a joke?” But the prickly feeling on the back of his neck told him it was anything but.

“No, Dean, it's not a joke,” said Castiel firmly.

“Okay. Okay. If we're all in Dean's head, then he should be able to control things, like a lucid dream?” asked Jo skeptically.

“Yeah,” said Sam. He looked frustrated. “I-I don't know. Maybe. I...”

“Get me a shot. With your brain,” said Jo, giggling.

Dean laughed too. Things were okay. Jo was here. He and Jo were happy, and Jo was real…

“Okay. Dean, listen to me,” Sam tried again. “This bar is not real. Jo isn't real. You broke up with her, man.”

Dean looked at Jo lovingly. He would never break up with her…

“No way,” Jo said. “Let me assure you, if anybody is going to do the dumping, it’s going to be _me _dumping _him!”_

But in the back of his mind, he remembered: 

_ “When you stop treating me like a child and start treating me like a grown woman – oh, and when you decide that maybe it’s okay if you have something for yourself for a change - you give me a call, Dean Winchester!”_

When he looked again, Jo was gone. “No. No, no, no, no!” Dean exclaimed. “Guys, this is -- this is my _life_! This -- This is the dream!

“No, no, it's not,” insisted Castiel. “It's just _a_ dream, Dean. That's all it is. Please, you have to -- you have to try to remember, because the people in your life -- in your real life, out there -- we need you to come back.”

Then Sam whispered, “Poughkeepsie.”

Dean’s blood ran cold. “What'd you say?”

“Poughkeepsie,” said Sam again, more firmly this time.

And Dean remembered. 

“_We had a deal!”_

What seemed like a lifetime flashed through his mind. _Killing, as Michael. Werewolves and vampires, and experimentation…_

“I remember. I remember everything,” he said.

And there was Michael, taking Dean’s form, in the bar, clapping slowly. “Hey, fellas. Well, this is fun.”

“Get out of my head,” said Dean, furious. Of course it was a dream. He had been happy…

“You don't mean that, Dean, not really,” Michael said in his slow, measured voice. “You may lie to them, but, deep down, I know you. I am you. You only tolerate the angel because you think you owe him, because he ‘gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition.’ Or whatever. But since then, what has he done? Only made mistakes, one after the other. And… steal the love of your life.”

Dean could see Castiel’s hurt look, and he started to seethe with anger.

“ And, Sam -- oh, Sam...” Michael turned to his brother. “You know, Dean was his happiest when you quit hunting, leaving him with your dad, just the two of them. See, deep down, he knows that you will always abandon him, again and again.”

Sam was angry, Dean could tell, and he refused to listen to any more. “Shut up!”

“You don't need them,” Michael continued, to him this time. “You don't even like them. They're not your family -- they're your responsibilities. They're a weight around your neck. And deep down, you wanted -- you were desperate to get away from them. And that is why you said yes.”

They were his deepest, darkest doubts, and Dean couldn’t stand to hear them right now. “I said shut your damn mouth!”

“Wait,” Castiel said to Michael. “Something's wrong. You're stalling.”

“Am I?” asked Michael.

“He's buying time so his monsters can get to us and rescue him,” Sam filled in.

“You think I need them to save me? Please,” Michael said confidently.

“Fine,” Dean snapped, ready for it to be over. His dream world had been destroyed, and he might as well face the real one. “You're so tough, why don't you snap your fingers and nuke us all?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yeah, I do,” Dean challenged.

“He can't,” Castiel said tersely. “Because, in here, we're all just mental projections, so in here, we're all the same.”

“So, in here, you're all talk,” Sam challenged.

Michael paused, evaluating his options. Finally he said, “You think I need my powers?” I destroy worlds, and I'd crush you with my bare hands.”

“Prove it,” Dean said.

Dean came after Michael, but Michael punched him twice and he fell to the floor. Sam and Castiel came next, but he beat them back easily.

“You fellas didn't think this out, did you?” asked Michael, not even winded. “Even if you could force me out, what do you think I'd leave behind, hm? You'd be nothing but blood and bone.”

Dean thought quickly. “Then we don't kick him out. We keep him in.” He grabbed Michael, opening the door to the refrigerated room. Michael tossed him aside, but Sam barreled into Michael, forcing him into the room. The door was locked quickly.

They could hear Michael screaming, desperate to get out. “It'll hold,” said Dean. “My mind, my rules. I got him. I'm the Cage.”

“You’re sure?” Castiel asked.

“For now, anyway,” said Dean. 

“Let’s go back,” added Sam with a nod to his brother.

***Ember POV***

December 25th, Early Morning

It had been a close one. In addition to Ember, Eileen, Jack, and Krissy, three hunters made it back to the bunker just ahead of Michael’s monsters. Unfortunately, one of the monsters had managed to turn one of the survivors, Tiger, without anyone in the group realizing at a rest stop. Tiger had managed to open the doors to the bunker to let in a small group of monsters. 

There were less monsters than hunters, but Ember knew from the groups’ discussions and Castiel’s memories that Michael’s strength had made the groups evenly matched. _Aim for the heads._ Ember used all of her force powers to lob a lamp into one of them so hard that her face made a gooey mess on the wall. _They can see me, because Michael can see me. Turning invisible won’t help._ Two of the monsters headed her direction, singling her out as the greatest threat. Another went to fight Krissy and Eileen, and Tiger headed toward Maggie and Santrese. 

Santrese was dispatched with a blow to the side, and Tiger advanced on Maggie. Ember dodged quickly, reaching for the knife she always kept at her side for emergencies. Eileen was thrown backward to the floor, and Krissy advanced forward to meet her attacker with determination.

“No!” screamed Jack, and a burst of gold power was released, disintegrating all four remaining monsters.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

“It was an accident,” said Jack.

“Yeah, but you can't afford that kind of accident,” Castiel said insistently. “You need your soul to stay alive, to -…”

“They were about to kill Maggie. Eileen had already been hurt,” Jack protested.

Ember sighed. “I know, Jack.

“We’re not mad at you,” Castiel continued. “It’s just…” They shared a loaded look.

“We’ve seen firsthand what the absence of a soul does. And it's not just about you staying alive, Jack. It's about you staying you. You understand?”

“We don’t know how much soul you have left, or how much power that kind of thing takes. And _any _time you use that kind of power could be _too much…”_

“It won't happen again,” Jack said.


	82. Lebanon

***Dean POV***

January 31, 2019

**ONE MONTH LATER**

It had been a quiet couple of months, Dean supposed… for everyone else.

For him, the knocking never stopped. Aside from when he first returned from Hell, and Purgatory, he couldn’t ever remember surviving on this little sleep. He knew he had bags around his eyes, and he realized he was sharp and snappish with everyone around him, including Sam. He survived on coffee and beer, alternatively.

Castiel had advised him that the refridgerator door in his mind would hold Michael even while he was asleep… it was _getting _to sleep that was the problem. Michael was always there, always _banging_ on the door of the storage closet, and screaming…

For awhile, Dean had been convinced that the best plan would be for him to shut himself in a warded box, called a Ma’lak box, and have Sam deposit him over the side of a boat in the middle of the Pacific. He would be trapped, with Michael, forever… but at least the world would be safe from the archangel.

It had taken the combined persuasion of Sam, Castiel, Ember, and even Krissy to talk him out of his suicidal plan. To be honest, he still wondered if he had made the right decision. He could feel the door to the storage room in his mind giving way, a little more each day.

Still, perhaps there was hope. Near the end of January, a breakthrough occurred. Ketch, Ember, Castiel, and Rowena had worked together and managed to locate the plans for the hyperbolic pulse generator! Only then did Dean completely put the Ma’lak box plan aside.

This had not been a simple task. Ketch had known (or suspected, at least) where the plans were located – a vault in Wales, guarded by three men and warded against both angels and demons. Castiel had put the men to sleep using his angel powers. Ember had gone inside, invisible, and stolen the plans, with Rowena talking to her through an earpiece. Castiel had then made copies of the blueprints and given them back to Ember to put back in the vault. Finally, he had modified the memories of the three guards.

Fortunately, it seemed that they had gotten by with it.

Unfortunately, they quickly realized that stealing the blueprints was just beginning.

“The only spells we’ve done that have been more complicated than this,” Ember commented, “Have been the one to open the rift last year, and the one that summoned the Darkness.”

“It looks like it belongs in the Book of the Damned,” Rowena agreed.

“Three feathers of an angel,” Castiel read off the list… “Not too happy about that one. But that’s one of the _easiest _ingredients on this list for us to gather…” He shook his head.

“And remember it’ll take at least a month before it’s ready,” Rowena finished.

No one spoke until Krissy finally asked, “What will we do with him when he’s been ejected from Dean?”

“I want to kill him,” spoke up Jack. “We have the archangel blade.”

Rowena shook her head in agreement. “We could banish him to Lucifer’s cage, like we did Lucifer last time, but I’m strongly in favor of killing.”

“If we want to kill him, we’ll need a body to banish him _into,_ is the problem,” said Castiel. “A body which has already been prepared with cuffs, and one which we know can sustain him for at least a few minutes and not explode.”

“The possession can’t last for very long anyway,” said Sam. “Because once Michael gets out of Dean’s head, he’ll be able to draw on his army once again.”

“Right,” said Castiel. “And, to top it all off, we have to find a way to force the person in question to agree to the possession.”

“Our best bet will be one of Michael’s monsters,” said Dean. “The way some of them talk, they’re desperate to be used as a meat suit. And they definitely need to be ganked, regardless. But… finding one of them strong enough to withstand possession will be-…”

“A problem,” finished Castiel glumly.

“Can you tell ahead of time if a body will be able to sustain Michael?” Ember asked Castiel.

He nodded. “I’ve got a good idea.”

Dean sighed. “So… a list full of ingredients. Including a vessel that is both strong enough to hold Michael for at least a few minutes, and deplorable enough that we _have _to kill them anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’ll be a cinch.”

“You know who would be perfect?” Ember began, but Castiel cut her off.

“Don’t _start,” _he said. “We can’t find Nick, and I keep telling you: what made him best suited for Lucifer might make him _ill-_suited for Michael.” 

Nick had made a re-appearance in their lives recently when he had kidnapped Mary Winchester. She had led him to the demon Abraxas, who she had caught and trapped in an Enochian puzzle box about a year ago and put into her storage shed for safe keeping. Abraxas had been responsible for Nick’s family’s murder.

Nick was a serial murderer now. Castiel had been following Nick’s spree of murders and discussing them with Dean when each occurred. Most of them had some loose connection to his family’s murder. He needed to be stopped, but unfortunately he had learned a few things while he was with the Winchesters; he’d managed to successfully tattoo an Enochian warding symbol onto his hip, and now even Castiel couldn’t locate him.

“If he blows up in the process, I just don’t see the drawback,” Ember mumbled, and Castiel rolled his eyes.

***Sam POV***

February 7, 2019

And so, it was decided: they would wait for a monster capable of withstanding possession by Michael.

With each passing day, however, the situation became increasingly frustrating. Not a day went by without Castiel being called off to some other state to read the mind of some barely-in-control monster in hopes that said monster would be an appropriate meat suit for Michael. No matter what, the answer was always “no.” 

January changed into February, and with it, the Winchesters and Castiel discovered a change in the mind of Donatello, the prophet. Donatello’s mind was struggling to rebuild! Sam had thought Castiel’s mind-reading had turned the prophet into a vegetable the year before, but miraculously he had recovered enough on his own that Castiel was able to heal him the rest of the way. Though the prophet still didn’t have a soul, when he awakened in the hospital his mind was free of the corruption caused by the demon tablet the previous year. It was a “win” that was both unexpected and sorely needed. 

Still, even the assistance of a prophet didn’t speed up the creation of the Hyperbolic pulse generator, or even the locating of an appropriate vessel. Castiel didn’t bother even scanning Donatello’s mind to see if he would make an appropriate vessel; instead, he went into a long-winded explanation about how the “conduit of the word of the Lord would be the worst possible vessel due to…” But everyone tuned out after that.

Then, one day, purely by chance, Sam found what he thought might be the answer. They had confiscated several items from a murderous pawn shop owner (long story), and among them…

“It’s called the Baozhu,” said Sam. “It’s one of eight ancient Chinese treasures. It’s a pearl that grants wishes... sort of.”

“Sort of?” asked Dean.

“Well, technically it’s supposed to give you ‘what your heart desires,’” finished Sam.

“That would be Michael outta my freakin’ head,” said Dean. 

“I don’t know,” said Sam, holding out the pearl. “I guess you hold the pearl and concentrate on what your heart desires.”

“Michael outta my head,” said Dean. “Got it.”

Dean picked up the pearl and held it in his hand. Sam got a swooping feeling in his stomach, the kind of feeling he typically got before something major happened. 

The lights in the bunker began to flicker, and Sam’s thoughts immediately went to Eileen. She was miles away, though, on a hunting trip with Ember. They were following up on a werewolf client of Ember’s who they worried might’ve gone rogue. In fact, for once, Sam and Dean had the bunker to themselves.

Except… Sam could see the outline of a man in the darkness. Sam reacted instinctively, ducking when the man swung, but the man was faster, and countered with a gun, pushing Sam to the floor. Dean swung at the man, but the man fought Dean as well. Sam heard the sound a gun cocking.

“Don’t you move.”

Just then, the lights came back on, and Dean and Sam stared in wonder at the man.

It was John Winchester.

Dean found his voice first: “Dad?”

John looked at them in shock. “Dean? Sam? What in the hell?”

***Dean POV***

February 7, Evening

Dean couldn’t remember being this happy in years. It was the kind of happy that was fragile, too good to be actually happening. 

He wasn’t sure what had happened. He had been thinking about his heart’s desire, about getting Michael out of his head. And then, out of nowhere, he had started thinking about how amazing it would be to see his parents back together again…

This version of John was like a dream. Dean had a feeling that his father felt like he did, as though this whole thing was too good to be true. His father had died fighting Azazel more than ten years earlier, a little over two years before Dean and Sam had met Ember and Castiel.

After John’s arrival, there had been the usual exchange of holy water, silver, and salt. Then they’d spoken for over an hour to catch John up on everything that had happened since his death.

“So, you saved the world?” he said slowly nearly two hours later. John had had half a bottle of good whiskey, and Dean thought that, given the circumstances, his father was taking the news well.

“More than once,” Dean affirmed seriously.

“Then it’s all true,” John said. “God, the devil, you boys smack in the middle. Now you live in a secret bunker with a half-demon, half-angel kid.”

“Yeah,” Sam and Dean both nodded. Admittedly, their situation was fairly surreal.

“And you’ve done this whole time-travel thing before?” John clarified.

“A few times. Actually, uh, our grandfather, your dad – he’s the one who helped us find this place. I think he’d be real happy to know you’re finally here.”

“Right. Man o’ Letters,” John affirmed, Learning that his father had accidentally time traveled to the future to help Sam and Dean had been one of many bombshells John had received this evening; he had always thought his father had abandoned him. Dean had a feeling John wasn’t entirely ready to accept this particular piece of news yet, or at the very least was sitting on it until a time when he could think about it further in private.

“Yeah. We’re legacies… because of you,” Sam said. Dean could tell that Sam was acutely aware of how difficult it had always been for him and John to get along. Dean had spent his childhood mending fences between the two. This particular version of John Winchester had been retrieved from 2003, which was shortly after Sam had had a gigantic fight with John before leaving for college. Dean had a feeling that this fact was on the forefront of both of their minds.

“I just wish that I had been there to see it,” said John, smiling at the two of them. Dean thought that his father was holding back tears. He tried to recall the last time he’d seen his father cry, but couldn’t remember being older than perhaps five. 

“Dad, none of this would have happened without you,” said Dean. John had taught them everything, for better or for worse.

“It’s good,” John said, smiling. “It’s fine. I went out takin’ out Yellow Eyes. I mean, that was the point, right? I mean, get the thing that killed mom.”

“Yeah, yeah, uh, Dad. About Mom…” started Sam.

They hadn’t told John about Mary coming back from the dead yet. Dean had taken over the story at that point, and he’d wanted it to be a surprise. He had called their mother as soon as John had shown up, however. He hadn’t told her much, just that there was an emergency, and she’d driven all the way from Minnesota. She couldn’t have had more perfect timing as she appeared in the kitchen.

Watching the two of them embrace, after more than 30 years apart, was like watching the end of the best possible chick flick. The love in his parents’ eyes as they kissed each other erased any doubts he had about accidentally using the pearl for this, instead of for Michael.

Unfortunately, Sam wasn’t so sure.

“I love this, too, Dean,” he protested when they gave Mary and John some private time together. “I do, honestly, but messing with time… You know how this ends. Things change.”

“Yeah, great,” said Dean, becoming annoyed. “We got our family back together. I’ll take that change.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Sam said insistently.

The doubts were creeping back in, and Dean wasn’t in the mood. “Stop. Just stop, okay? Look, can we just have one family dinner? Just one? Us – all of us together. That’s all I want. Can you just give me that?”

And he left Sam in the hallway and walked away.

***Sam POV***

February 7, Evening

Maybe Dean was right. _One _family dinner. The universe could let them have _one _family dinner, right?

Sam found his father looking through the books on the shelves. “This place,” he said in wonder. “I don’t even know.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. When we first moved in, I think it kind of blew our minds, too.”

John smiled at him, and Sam knew that his father either had had too much whiskey, or was simply overjoyed to be alive for once. 

In John’s timeline back in 2003, he’d been looking for answers about Azazel, and about Azazel’s connection to Sam. The last time this version of John Winchester had seen Sam, Sam had said horrible things before he’d gone off to college in Palo Alto - things he knew neither of them would ever forget. 

John must feel overjoyed about Azazel’s death, about reuniting with Sam, and, most of all, about reuniting with Mary.

“Where’s Mom?” Sam asked.

“Oh, she’s, uh, gettin’ your brother a shopping list,” John answered, still smiling. “She’s gonna make that casserole of hers.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, Dean and I tried to make that once.” It had been a disaster. John had yelled at them for making a mess, but Sam thought perhaps he’d really been angry about the reminder of Mary.

John’s face dropped at the memory. “I, um… I remember. I screwed up with you a lot, didn’t I?”

“No, that’s okay,” Sam said.

“No, it’s not,” John said firmly. “Sammy, tell me the truth.”

It was his father’s command voice – soft, but uncompromising. Sam had never been very good at abiding it. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“You didn’t have a problem talking about it before you left,” said John. The things Sam had said about their family, about John, still hung in the air between them. _“You raised us like soldiers, always on the go, always at the ready,” _Sam had screamed._ “We were never children! I just want to live a normal life! I never asked to be part of this family, and now I’m asking to leave it!”_

Sam made an effort to explain himself. “Dad… for me? That fight… that was a lifetime ago. I don’t even remember what I said, and…”

That wasn’t true. He remembered exactly what he’d said. “I mean… yeah. You know what? You did some messed-up things. But I don’t… I mean, when I think about you…”

God dammit. He was going to cry. “And I think about you a lot… I don’t think about our – our fights. I think about you… I think about you on the floor of that hospital. And I think about how I never got to say goodbye.”

It had been brewing all evening. He’d never really apologized for all of the things he said during that fight, even during the brief period between when they’d started speaking again and when John had died. Sam hadn’t even been sure he wanted to apologize, because most of the things he’d said were true. But he wished things could’ve ended differently.

John put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam. Son. I am so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Sam said, his chest feeling suddenly lighter. “But you did your best, Dad. You – you fought for us, and you loved us, and… that’s enough.”

It felt, somehow, as though some small part of Sam knitted back together.

***Dean POV***

February 7, Evening

“Alright. I’ll get the booze – you get the food,” Dean said. Dean and Sam had gone into town for ingredients. Dean’s uneasiness had grown with every passing minute since his conversation with Sam, and he felt strongly that the sooner they got ingredients and went back home, the better. Still, he felt happy. His _father_ was _back._

“Alright, Jackson,” he said, walking into the liquor store. “It’s celebration time. Give me your best stuff.”

“Uh, do I know you?” said Jackson, giving him a strange look.

“It’s Dean,” Dean said, surprised. “Campbell. I come in here, like, always.”

“Oh. Right,” said Jackson, but he obviously didn’t believe him.

It wasn’t until he had finished buying the liquor that it occurred to him that Sam’s whole “playing with time” theory probably had some merit. Were they really “changing things?” Just to be safe, he looked himself up on Google.

Apparently, there was a reward for $100,000 for his capture. That was weird. He hadn’t tangled with law enforcement in over a year, and it had been years since he’d been accused of anything that would lead to that kind of price. (As he recalled, it had to do with a bank robbery, a murder, and a shape-shifter.)

He looked up Sam, which was a mistake.

Just then, Sam came up to him, looking panicked. “Dean.Dean, we have a problem.”

“Yeah, yeah, we do,” Dean agreed. “Check this out.” He handed Sam his phone. 

The screen was frozen on a picture of Sam, who was wearing glasses and a turtleneck sweater.

“Is that me?” Sam asked.

“According to the internet, you run a law firm and love kale,” Dean answered. “Wait until you check your wannabe TED talk.”

Dean started the video. “Invest in a treadmill desk, don’t drink coffee, and stick to a raw food diet,” Sam was saying. “I mean, God bless kale – am I right? Truth is – And this is hard to hear – performing at your best requires all of your mental energy. Every last drop. You see, it’s just not compatible with something like, uh… hobbies or, uh – or even having a family.”

“Okay,” Sam said, frowning. “That’s enough of that.” 

Sam turned off the video. “Listen, Dean, there is a wanted poster for you, hanging in the post office.”

“Oh, yeah, no, I-I Googled me, as well. Lots of beheadings,” Dean answered.

“I was right – messing with time changed things,” Sam said dismally.

“Well, I mean, I’m still hunting, but you’re internet famous,” Dean said defensively. “So, what – is there two of us running around here?”

Sam looked thoughtful. “No, I don’t think so. I think it’s a temporal paradox. We pulled Dad here from 2003, right? So time is self-correcting. Our timeline is changing to this new one.”

“So, what do you mean?” Dean asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

“It means, I think, that, if we don’t fix this, then we become those other versions of-…”

“Dean?” cried a voice.

Dean barely had time to turn around before he was being kissed. It was Ember – he knew that immediately, but _why _she was kissing him completely baffled him. He lost himself completely for a second in kissing, her, but then pulled his head back.”

“Ember what the he-..”

“Baby, I thought you were going to be in Atlanta until Wednesday?” she said. She hadn’t let go of him, and he shrugged away from her.

She allowed him out of her reach, then turned to Sam. “Who’s this?”

“Uh, Sam,” Dean said absently. “But Em-…”

“Oh my God, is this your _brother?”_ Ember said in shock. 

Just then, a blinding light lit up the restaurant nearby. It was as though the entire restaurant had been lit from within, like when an angel smited –

Together, all three of them rushed toward the restaurant.

Inside the restaurant, a waitress and three teenagers cowered in horror in the face of two angels that Dean recognized immediately as Zachariah and Castiel.

Dean recognized the waitress, too, and the three teenagers. All were locals, and they’d had run-ins with the Supernatural before. 

“Get out!” Dean screamed. “Go, go, go!”

The waitress and the teens ran out.

Zachariah and Castiel’s nostrils flared. Cas was looking at Ember with a curious but malevolent glare, but Zachariah’s gaze was fixed on them. “The Winchesters?” he asked.

“Zachariah?” said Sam.

“Cas?” said Dean.

“You know these guys?” said Ember.

“Silence, foul creature,” said Zachariah.

“Bite me,” said Ember, but she waited for Dean to make a move.

“Now, I know we had big plans for you, and then your daddy just up and disappeared, which… oh,” said Zachariah, realizing suddenly. “You. This is all you.”

“Cas, you know us,” Dean pleaded.

“I don’t know you,” said Castiel, tilting his head. His voice was gruff and unfeeling, like in the beginning.

“They ride with an Abomination,” said Zachariah. “Kill them.”

Castiel walked toward Dean, pulling out an angel blade. Ember moved forward, Ruby’s knife flashing through her hand.

“Cas, don’t!” Dean screamed.

Castiel threw Dean back toward the back wall. Meanwhile, Zachariah lifted his hand toward Sam, using his powers to choke him.

“What did you do, Sam?” Zachariah yelled, and Sam fell to his knees.

Dean attempted to recover, but he wasn’t quick enough. “Dean, the knife doesn’t-…”

But Ember’s words were cut off by a horrible scream, and Dean ran forward in horror as Castiel pierced Ember’s side with the knife.

“What did you do?” Zachariah was yelling. “Sam. Speak, Ubu, speak! What, what is it?”

Dean rushed Cas before he could take another swipe at Ember, but Cas parried, punching him. There was a bright flash of light, which Dean realized could only mean that Sam had managed to finish off Zachariah. 

Then Dean saw the flash of another angel blade and knew instinctively that Sam was fighting Cas as well. Castiel threw Sam into a table, then turned around to Dean.

“No. No, no, no, no, no, no!”

Castiel had his hand around Dean’s throat, choking him.

Dean tried to push away. “Cas. Cas. Stop it.”

Suddenly light filled the room again, and Castiel was gone. Sam had made a banishing symbol on the floor.

Sam and Dean both rushed toward Ember. Her side was covered in blood, but she was somehow still conscious. “Dean,” she whispered. “Dean, I – I’m glad you found… your brother… I love…”

Dean didn’t know what to say. “Ember, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to be-…”

But she was gone.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The universe had to be put back together, and quickly. The family dinner was, perhaps, the only thing they would have time for.

Dean had the job of telling their father. “Basically, uh, if you don’t go back, Sam never gets back into the life, um, and Mom, she, uh… Well, without everything that we did – with God, The Darkness – she never comes back. Sam thinks that34 she’ll just fade away.”

This John Winchester, so displaced from his life and the burdens of 2003, was perhaps kinder than John Winchester that Dean remembered.

“Okay,” he said, though Dean could tell he was holding back tears. “I mean, me versus your mom? That’s – that’s not even a choice.”

He even told Dean he was proud of him, a moment Dean didn’t expect and would never forget. “It was supposed to end with me, with Yellow Eyes. But now you – you are a grown man, and I am incredibly proud of you. I guess that I had hoped, eventually, you would… get yourself a normal life, a peaceful life, a family.”

Dean nodded and smiled. “I have a family.” He thought of Cas, somewhere with Zachariah, and Ember, dead at his hands.

He thought of Jo. Maybe if they found a way to get rid of Michael, maybe, someday…

Dinner was a somber affair at first, but eventually they decided to be grateful for every moment they had together as a family. All too soon, it was time to say good-bye.

“I am so proud of you boys,” John told them, smiling, and pulled them both into a hug. “I love you both so much.”

Sam and Dean were crying too. “I love you, too,” Dean said.

“Okay,” John said. “Okay. I’m ready.” John took Mary’s hand and winked at her. Then he faced Sam. “Sammy.”

As Sam picked up the pearl and put it on the table, Dean tried to memorize the way his parents looked together, happy in this small moment. He tried to remember that he should be grateful to get to say this final good-bye.

Sam picked up a bowl and brought it down on the table, smashing the pearl. Dean flinched at the sound. Slowly, John began to vanish, and their mother began to cry.

***Castiel POV***

February 7, Late Night

“Well, there’s our proof,” Ember said, snuggling into bed next to Castiel. They both knew he would fly off as soon as she fell asleep, but it had become their nightly ritual and neither intended to change it. “In another universe, if things had gone differently, you _would _kill me.”

“You’ve seen my mind,” he said defensively. “This surprises you?”

“Not really,” she said. “I’ve seen your memories, the ones you’ve been willing to share. I know who you used to be.”

“I’ve changed,” Castiel said simply, because that was all that needed to be said.

“I know,” she responded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note:
> 
> AAAAANNNNNNDDDD I'm finally back after seeing the finale... I loved it, but boy was that a gigantic dumpster fire on Twitter! I'm about 50/50 for Destiel... if you are a Desti-heller, just know that, in spite of this very hetero fic, y'all totally convinced me. I have a lot of feelings but here I'll keep them to a minimum.
> 
> That being said!
> 
> I don't buy that Dean would've given up his self-sacrificial plan that easily, so I added a little boost with the hyperbolic pulse generator. Fixing plot flaws since 2017…


	83. Ouroboros

***Ember POV***

February 26, Early Morning

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

Almost a month went by, and a suitable (and suitably evil) vessel for Michael had still not been found.

Still, the boys kept busy. By the end of February, they were hot on the trail of an elusive serial killer that killed by eating the eyes and, sometimes, other various bits and pieces.

Ember preferred not to be involved in cases like this in particular; she’d come to terms with seeing dead bodies, but she’d always preferred to let the boys do the work any time that guts were involved.

Unfortunately, this time Ember didn’t have much of a choice.

“We’re hunting a gorgon,” Castiel informed her late on a Tuesday night. He had flown her out to a hotel room in the middle of New Mexico to meet up with the brothers. “It’s an ancient, cursed being with an affinity for snakes and a hunger for human flesh. It strikes by paralyzing its prey. And, they can see the future by consuming human eyes.”

“That explains why they always saw you coming, even with Rowena’s tracking spell,” Ember filled in. She knew Rowena had been brought on the case when this particular monster had proved himself to be more elusive than most, but even that hadn’t helped.

“Exactly,” said Dean. “And, why we’ll need you to help hunt it.”

Ember groaned. “_Seriously!?” _she asked. “You know I hate seeing people who have been eaten!”

Dean rolled his eyes impatiently. “Yeah, well, you and Cas are the only ones who can go invisible.”

Ember rolled her eyes and pouted. This was her least favorite kind of case: the mystery was already solved, and all that was left was fighting and, apparently, guts.

“This guy is responsible for as many as 17 unexplained deaths in the last three months, in addition to the ones we already knew about,” Sam filled in. He was always the pragmatic one, and he knew the death count would ultimately sway Ember. “And, best of all, he _might _be a decent vessel for Michael.”

Ember looked at Castiel to confirm. “I said _might_,” Castiel said. “I’ll be able to tell when I meet him. But it’s the best chance we’ve had so far. Typically older creatures like this that already contain some magic have the best shot at being able to hold Michael at least for a few minutes.”

Ember sighed. She hadn’t been on a non-Michael-related hunting trip since the previous Halloween. She liked hunting from time to time, but anything with guts (werewolves, zombies, rugarus) was definitely not her favorite. Still, Castiel and Dean needed her, and so it wasn’t even a question. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The following morning, Ember was awakened early by Castiel. “Another body has been found,” he said tersely.

The two of them joined Dean at a truck stop. Ember was still invisible, more to mask her state of undress than because she felt unsafe. A truck driver had been killed, his eyes gouged out like the rest of the dead bodies. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” the local police officer was saying. “And, uh, yes, there is one other thing… a note on the body.”

The note was made out to Dean. "Dean,” it said, “I see you standing alone by the truck reading this note. I see you and the tall man and the red-headed witch chasing me. I will always see you. Stop, or I will make you stop. Regards, Noah."

“I'm on a first-name basis with some psycho pen pal,” Dean grumbled. “That's aces.”

“Somehow he knows you,” said Castiel. “And that confirms the theory that he can’t see Ember. But why doesn't he mention me?”

“Maybe you're not his type,” Dean said gruffly.

Dean called Sam, Rowena, and Jack, who were in a nearby hotel room, and put them on speaker phone.

“For the record, I don't love being included on his little hit list,” said Rowena’s voice.

“But he can't see Cas, Jack, or Ember?” asked Dean.

“It's an odd and glaring omission,” said Castiel.

“No,” said Sam. “It's our shot. He can’t see demons, and he can't see angels.”

“But I’m not either,” protested Jack.

“Well, apparently you're close enough,” said Castiel.

***Dean POV***

Februry 27, Evening

The plan was simple. Castiel, Ember, and Jack would strike first. Dean, Sam, would come 3 minutes later. Castiel had anti-venom in case things went wrong. They had rope and handcuffs so that they could capture Noah to use as a vessel for Michael. 

Dean hated the plan. But then, Dean hated any plan that involved him taking the lesser part of the risk.

When Dean and Sam arrived on the scene and looked around, things didn’t look good. Ember was getting up from the floor, but there was murder in her eyes and she looked fine. The fact that she had become visible meant that it had no longer benefitted her to stay invisible; this meant that even though Noah hadn’t been able to see her with his future-sight, he had been able to see her in person.

Jack, too, was on the floor. Castiel, however, was prone and unresponsive on the ground.

“Hello, Dean,” said Noah. “Wish I could say it's nice to meet you in person.”

“Yeah. It's a real pleasure,” he grumbled. Sam jumped into the fray as Ember and Jack both darted toward where Castiel was lying. Noah sent Sam to the floor easily, and Dean doubled his efforts. But Noah was older, and quicker… he fought like a snake, and it was difficult to keep him in one place.

Ember and Dean tag-teemed Noah; Ember rushed him from the side and Dean from the font, but he backhanded Ember and she fell back once more. Then Noah had him, and was smashing his head against the wall, once, twice…

_Michael._

But Dean knew no more.

***Jack POV***

February 27, Night

He should’ve been better. He should’ve been _quicker._ Noah the gorgon was downstairs in the dungeon, tied up and duct taped. Castiel was healed by his grace using his soul magic, which was worth it despite the fact that Jack knew he would receive a lecture for it.

And still, Dean was out cold. Castiel hadn’t even been able to see into Dean’s head to heal him. It had been left unspoken, but everyone guessed this had something to do with Michael.

“Jack,” Castiel said, pausing at the door to Jack’s room. He had the look on his face that Jack easily identified as meaning that Castiel meant to reassure him, but also lecture him about using his soul magic again.

“I hate seeing him like that,” Jack said, thinking of Dean. “But he's gonna be okay, right? I mean, it's Dean. It was a fight. It was just a fight.” The Winchesters got in fights with the supernatural all the time…

“Every time we go out, there's always a risk,” Castiel said gently.

“I can't think about losing him or -- or Sam or you, or Mom. I just -- I hate thinking about it.”

“Yeah, so do I,” agreed his father. “But, Jack you know, Sam and Dean, they're human, and they're very extraordinary, brave, special humans, but they're still humans. And humans burn bright, but for a very brief time compared to, you know, things like us. And eventually, they're gone, even the very best ones, and we have to carry on. It's just… It's part of growing up.”

Castiel shook his head again. “Even your mother, who is still half human… Jack, she only has maybe 200 or 300 years. And I don’t know what I’ll do without her, Jack, but I can always-…”

“Wait,” Jack said in shock. “Mom’s… not… immortal?”

Castiel looked at him in shock. “No, son, I thought-…”

A horrible feeling engulfed Jack. In only 200 or 300 years, his mother, Sam, and Dean would all be dead. “What’s the point?” he asked, feeling defeated.

“The point?”

“What's the point of being a cosmic being if everyone I care about is just gonna leave?” Jack asked.

“The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them,” his father said vehemently, looking frustrated. “When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.”

“That sounds… awful,” Jack said seriously.

“It is,” said Castiel in the manner of one who is stating fact. “But it's also living. So when Dean wakes up -- and he will wake up -- we just have to remember to appreciate the time that we all have together _now_.”

Jack stood carefully, processing this answer. “What if he doesn't wake up?” he asked. “What about Michael? What if --…”

“I don't know, Jack,” said Castiel, sighing wearily.

“Okay, but I could use my powers,” Jack protested. He could use his grace, even if it would burn off his soul. He could-

“No, Jack!” said his father, and now he was angry. “I know you want to help, but you cannot --…”

“What is the good of having these powers if I can't help the people that I love, if I can't help them when they need it?” Jack burst out. “It's selfish of me not to!”

“I understand how frustrating it is,” said Castiel in an attempt at calm. 

“I know,” Jack said. And he did know – he had heard all about when Castiel was a human, when his mother and father had first fallen in love.

Jack turned away from his father and cast around for a subject change. He walked over to the gorgon’s pet snake, which Jack was now keeping in his bedroom.

“You're keeping the snake?” Castiel asked curiously.

Actually, that brought up another thing Jack was worried about – the story Noah had told, just before they captured him.

_ “Once there was a crafty black snake who kept eating this poor chicken's eggs. She couldn't watch them all the time, you see? The black snake would wait until she was gone and then slide one of the eggs into his mouth and crush it in his throat. Now, this went on until there was only one egg left. But when the chicken left that egg, just for a moment, the snake swallowed it up. But for some reason, he couldn't crush it in his throat. The chicken had hard-boiled her final egg just to choke the snake. And the snake died.”_

_ “Why are you telling us this story?” Castiel had asked sharply. _

_ Noah had laughed, eyeing Jack. “Because I can’t quite tell if he’s the chicken or the snake.”_

“Rowena said that the gorgons can see people's fate,” Jack said. “And Noah said he could see me. That story…” He shook his head.

“The story about the chicken and the snake?” Castiel asked. “It was just… He was stalling.”

“What does it mean?” Jack asked.

“It's a story about greed mostly,” Castiel answered. “But I guess it's also about being willing to give up the thing you love in order to kill the thing you hate.”

“He said that he didn't know if I was the chicken or the snake,” Jack said thoughtfully.

Just then, however, they both began to hear noises from the direction of the sickbay.

Both of them made a run for it.

Dean was up, and furious. “Where is he?” he was screaming. “Where is he?” He was turning over and plowing through everything on the shelves in the sickbay.

“No, wait! Dean! Dean!” shouted Sam as Jack rushed into the room. “No, stop! Dean, stop it! It’s me! You’re in the bunker!”

“I know where I am! That’s not-…” Dean stopped, catching his breath. Then he seemed to come back to himself, and turned to them carefully.

“He's gone!” Dean said in a panic. “Michael. He's gone!”

“How?” asked Jack.

“This is my fault,” Dean whispered, looking distraught. “I let my guard down. This is my fault!”

Jack looked around, suddenly realizing Castiel had disappeared. He had been right by his side only a second ago…

“I told you!” Dean screamed again. “I told you to let me take that coffin ride to the bottom of the ocean!”

“Okay, Dean, just -…” But then they heard a terrible scream.

Jack’s first thought was _Krissy_, but she was back in Conway Springs in school. His second thought was _Mom_, but the screaming didn’t sound like her. As one, Jack, Castiel, Sam, and Dean ran into the situation room.

The situation room was covered in dead bodies. Five of the survivors, the ones who had been milling around the bunker, lay dead. Jackson and Trevor were hunched over the table, bleeding from the head. Nathan, Shauna, and Xu were lying near the stairs. Xu had claw marks in his chest. 

The screamer had been Maggie. Castiel (who had obviously reappeared here) had thrown her behind him, but it didn’t seem to matter; even as they watched, she fell, torn asunder by white light. Then she fell to the ground, dead, her eyes burned out.

Maggie had almost finished learning to operate the switchboard while Sam and Ember were both busy, Jack thought distantly… but now she was-…

Castiel jumped backward away from her, his eyes narrowed. There was blood coming from his nose, and running down his face from a cut near his eye, and his angel blade was drawn. He had obviously come here earlier than the rest of them… Jack supposed that explained why he had disappeared suddenly.

Then Ember stepped forward from the other room. “Hello, boys,” she said in a low voice. Her eyes were black, with a gleaming blue speck in the middle. It made her look truly evil and sinister. “I could've burned them all, but I'm feeling very hands-on.”

Jack felt as though the world was crumbling around him. This must surely be the work of Michael. If he’d been faster, if he’d been here to protect his mother, this wouldn’t have happened.

“You leave her alone!” said Jack firmly.

“Michael,” said Dean, stiffening.

“That’s right,” said Ember, who was now Michael. “I thought you'd appreciate this vessel. I certainly do.”

“You let her go,” commanded Jack again.

“Oh, please,” said Michael. “She's much sturdier than she looks. _Just _inhuman enough to hold me.”

“Ember would never would have let you in,” accused Castiel.

“She didn't want to say yes, but… it was either her, or the red-headed witch,” Michael said. He used Ember’s body to gesture to Rowena, who was slumped over at a table in the library beyond archway. There was no blood around her body, and she looked as though she was either sleeping or knocked out.

“I think she thought her mind would put up more of a resistance to me, with her being half-demon and all.”

Michael laughed. “And I admit, it did… a bit. But I’m for too powerful for that.”

Dean recovered himself first. “Sam, get the cuffs,” he said.

Sam moved to go get the angel cuffs, as he was closest, but Michael raised his hand and they all fell to the floor in pain.

“That's not very nice,” said Michael. “And if we're not being nice, what if you couldn't breathe?” He took a step down the stairs, and snapped his fingers, and Sam and Dean both began gasping for breath.

“That's a terrible feeling, isn't it?” asked Michael. “What if you were also blind?” Michael snapped Ember’s fingers again, and Jack saw Sam’s eyes go white. 

“Sam,” choked out Dean.

“And what if you just hurt?” Michael continued. This time when he snapped his fingers, Dean, Sam, and Castiel all curled up and groaned in pain.

Jack couldn’t stand it anymore. He would not watch this. There was a satchel on the table next to him with an angel blade sticking out of it, and he reached for it when Michael wasn’t looking…

“But fun as this is, I think no more games,” said Michael. “This time, you all die. This time, the world burns…”

This was it. Jack grabbed the angel blade out of the satchel. He couldn’t pray to his mother or else Michael would hear. “_I’m sorry, Father. I love you…”_

“Michael!” he shouted, brandishing the angel blade.

Michael turned on him, shooting white light out of his fingers. 

It hurt, and Jack staggered backward. He quickly drew more power from his soul to counter it. Then he faced Michael again, drawing even more power from his soul until his eyes shone with grace. “_Tell them I’m sorry…”_ Out loud he said, “Let them go!”

“You think you can match me, boy?” Michael screamed. “This power you have now -- it's nothing, just a crutch.”

_“Tell Krissy I love her… Tell them all I love them…”_ Jack drew more power, shooting his own grace back at Michael.

It hit Michael, in Ember’s body, in the chest, and he flinched as his mother staggered backward. Then Sam and Dean began to gasp in deep breaths, and he realized that Michael’s power over them had been broken.

“How dare you do that to your mother!” Michael shouted, and he sent another ball of grace hurtling toward Jack.

Jack went flying backward, but now that he freely was drawing power from his soul, it barely touched him. “You’re not her,” he said, recovering.

“Jack!” cried Castiel somewhere in the background, but Jack paid the angel no mind.

“Burning off your soul?” Michael asked casually. “You'll run out soon enough.”

“It's worth the cost,” said Jack, standing up again.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” Michael said, facing him still in the body of his mother.

“I feel the same,” Jack said, keeping his voice level.

Then Michael began an onslaught. “I am the commander of the host!” he yelled, shooting another ball of grace. “I am the cleanser of worlds! I will not be challenged by a child!”

Jack took Michael’s balls of grace, but they didn’t touch him. He could feel his soul flowing cleanly into his magic. _“I love you…”_

“I’m not a child!” he yelled. “I'm the son of an angel and a half-demon! I am Jack Novak-Winchester!”

“Jack!” Castiel screamed. “No!”

Jack moved forward on instinct now, and put both of his hands on his mother’s head, forcing the angel out. His mother collapsed, and he knew instinctively that she would recover.

Michael was flying now, in the air over their heads, trapped there by Jack’s magic. “You won't hurt anyone ever again!” he yelled.

He knew, instinctively, to kill, kill, kill, and the magic from his soul was still flowing freely. And then just as the essence of Michael began to fade, he saw Michael’s grace, and reached out for it. It came to him willingly, or perhaps he overpowered it, but he honestly couldn’t tell the difference.

Then he felt… _right_. As though all of the pieces of him that Lucifer had taken almost a year ago had somehow slotted back into place.

“Jack?” Dean asked from somewhere behind Jack.

He heard the soft fluttering of wings, and knew that his father had flown the few feet to his mother’s side to check on her. He would find her sleeping peacefully, Jack knew.

“Michael – He’s dead,” Jack said, calmly.

“Jack,” said Sam. “Are you, uh --…”

Jack drew upon his grace, the way he used to, before Lucifer had drained him. He found it to be fully restored, just as he had suspected. “I'm me again,” Jack said calmly. And to demonstrate, he flared his wings behind him.

***Ember POV***

February 27, Night

_“You won’t be able to possess me or control me anyway,” Ember spat at Michael. He was only in her mind – she knew that – he looked and sounded solid, like a more refined version of Dean. “My mind is different because I’m half-demon. It’s more resistant.”_

_ “That’s true,” Michael said calmly. “I won’t be able to withstand sharing a mind with such a disgusting creature for very long. But I won’t need to, will I? Only long enough to destroy them…”_

_ “I’ll never let you-…”_

_ “Then I’ll possess the red-headed witch,” he said frankly. “I can use her 300 years of magic, and burn your world even faster.”_

_ “Don’t you dare, you fucking-…”_

_ “Do you use that tongue to kiss your angel, demon? Accept, or the red-headed witch will accept, and you’ll have to watch her kill everyone you love.”_

_ “Yes,” Ember said._

_ Then, in the second between her agreement and the moment white covered her vision, Ember prayed, “Castiel…”_

“The funeral is over,” Castiel said gruffly, entering the bedroom. It was the bedroom Ember and Castiel used when they stayed the night at the bunker for whatever reason. “Jack’s in his bedroom with Krissy, and Sam and Dean have retired for the night,” Castiel continued.

Ember barely moved.

“I flew Eileen in from her hunt in Minnesota as well, for Sam,” Castiel added. “I thought it… prudent.” 

Ember still didn’t stir. Finally, she said in a small voice… “Did you find out… anything more? About Jack?”

“Not really,” Castiel said. “He is much stronger than me. Even with his permission, I can’t view his soul or his mind the way I could if he were human.”

And yet, Castiel held out two fingers.

Ember knew what he wanted: full access to her mind. She nodded, choking on a sob.

_The moment he touched his fingers to her head, the bedroom dissolved around them. Instead, they were back in the cave where Castiel had proposed._

_ “Not-not here,” Ember said. “It’ll ruin it.”_

_ Instead, Ember created, in her mind, a new place for them to talk. The bed was exactly like their bed in Conway Springs, but the walls were gray and drab. They reflected her current mood._

_ Ember sensed the moment that Castiel felt how upset she was: the immense weight that had settled somewhere around her navel, the feeling like she was holding down vomit, and the tears that would never stop. He didn’t comment, but he climbed into the bed and pulled her closer to him. She could feel bits of his grace winding their way around her depression, and she felt mildly less nauseous._

_ “Cas…” Ember whimpered, curling around him on the bed._

_ “Ember,” he said, holding her. “It wasn’t your fault. It-…”_

_ “You must know more about Jack than you’ve said,” she said, changing the subject. She was refusing to look him in the eyes, and her voice was muffled by the fabric of his trenchcoat._

_ Castiel sighed. “There’s no way to know exactly how much of his soul he burned off. But Ember, there can’t be much left. The power it must have taken to destroy Michael…”_

_ Ember sobbed harder. “How do we get it back?” But she already knew it was hopeless, and her mind communicated as much to him._

_ He simply held her._

_ “Cas… can you make it go away? The memories of… of what I did…” She still refused to look at him._

_ “I could try,” he said. “I’d have more luck at erasing memories when I have your consent, I think, but… not when you’re so mentally depleted. I’m sorry, but we don’t know what could happen. Our best chance would be when you’re better rested and fed than you are now.”_

_ “Wouldn’t now be the best time?” she asked. “While I’m so…” Ember’s voice drifted off, but a darker part of her mind supplied the words instead: _

_ Hopeless. _

_ Pointless. _

_ Worthless. _

_ Better dead._

_ “Stop,” said Castiel, and Ember cried harder._

_ “I’m sorry,” he said again. “But it’s not just you. I… I expended a lot of grace in that fight.”_

_ “I hurt you,” Ember said, still sobbing. “I hurt… I killed….”_

_ “It wasn’t your fault,” Castiel said again, then he sighed. “I’m going to put you into a deep and dreamless sleep,” he said. “You’ll sleep for 8 hours, at least. And I’m going to go to sleep, too,” he added._

_ Then he touched her forehead again, and everything went mercifully calm._


	84. Peace of Mind

***Ember POV***

March 1

Ember could remember three times in her adult life that could compare to this. The first was back when she first met Dean, after her first run-in with Alistair. (She’d been forced to kill one of her clients after Alistair had taken possession of him.) The second was after her Demon Blood Bond with Dean. The third was after her Demon Blood Bond with Cas, which had led to her being held captive by Lucifer, and her pregnancy with Jack. 

This time was worse. Ember barely ate, cried constantly, and slept only with Castiel’s assistance.

These people, all of them, had been her friends. She and her friends had brought them to this world from the Apocalypse World in search of a better life, and weapons, and perhaps even a way to kill Michael. Instead they had met death at Michael’s hands.

“They died facing him,” Castiel told her the day after Michael’s death, “in the battle where he met his demise. That’s how they’d have wanted to go.”

“You don’t know that,” Ember told him. 

Two days after Michael’s death, Castiel brought proof. He had messages from Heaven from all six of the fallen Apocalypse World survivors, which he relayed to Ember, Jack, and Krissy. Sam, Dean, and Eileen were also listening on speaker phone, as Dean and Sam had both joined Eileen on her hunt the day after Michael’s death. 

Of the fallen Apocalypse World survivors, Shuana and Nathan reported that they were together in Heaven, and had found happiness. Trevor, Xu, Jackson, and Maggie all requested that their souls be brought over to the Heaven in Apocalypse World. 

“We can do that now,” Castiel reminded the group. “The survivors who want to can go back.” He looked at Jack. “You can provide enough archangel grace to get them back to the other side.”

Jack nodded.

“We can open a portal one more time,” said Sam, “and send back the survivors that want to go, and the souls of those that died on this side.”

“We should give them a few days to make plans,” said Eileen. “We can do it this weekend, or next weekend, whenever everyone is free.”

None of the six fallen Apocalypse World survivors blamed Ember, and yet it barely lessened the blame she placed on herself. “Dean only remembers certain portions of being possessed,” Ember said to Castiel one night. “But I remember everything. He couldn’t silence me the way he could’ve if I were human. I watched everything in vivid color, I just couldn’t stop it.”

It wasn’t just the death of the Apocalypse World survivors that was making Ember miserable, however. She worried constantly about the state of Jack’s soul. Krissy had reported that he didn’t seem any different than usual, but she knew that Castiel suspected differently.

Between the deaths of the survivors and her worry about her son, Ember was having a very difficult time. In fact, the only strength she’d regained by the second day after Michael’s death had been what little it took to hide the dark recesses of her mind when she allowed Castiel to sift through it.

Castiel had always been gracious in his understanding that humans have private thoughts and doubts. From the first time he had entered her mind during their relationship, he had taught her how to wall off the thoughts she didn’t want him to hear. She knew he could break through some (but not all) of her barriers if he wanted to, but he had always respected her privacy. By the first day after Michael’s death, Ember once again gathered the strength to put her deepest, darkest thoughts back behind the wall where they belonged, as they would only burden Castiel anyway. She often thought, for example, that she should simply let the Empty take her… but Castiel didn’t need to know that.

For now, this was the only strength she had. 

***Castiel POV***

March 13

**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Castiel hadn’t been there for Ember during any of the previous occasions when she had felt this miserable, but he was fairly certain none of these previous occasions had ever lasted this long. It had been two weeks, and Ember was visibly thinner. She looked drawn and nearly anorexic, and she rarely smiled. She was never in the mood for sex, and he had stopped approaching the subject. She still needed his help to sleep each night, and when she slept he often had to help control her dreams. 

Ember went back to work less than a week after Michael’s death, and she at least seemed happy while she was working. During the evenings, however, she was still withdrawn and morose.

Sam wasn’t fairing much better. The survivors had been his friends, his charges, and Castiel could tell from his demeanor that he felt responsible for them as much as Ember did. The night after Michael’s death, Castiel had heard screaming, and rushed down to the dungeons to find Noah the gorgon in no less than eight pieces. Sam had been standing over him with a blade, crying. 

Castiel had flown Eileen back from her hunt in Missouri to help Sam, because he’d had his hands full with Ember. He hadn’t seen Sam since then, as he and Dean had been on three back-to-back hunts. Castiel knew that this was Sam’s way of coping. Krissy, Ember, Jack, and Castiel had been taking turns answering the phone calls, doing emergency research, and helping out the hunter network by doing whatever Sam couldn’t do remotely.

On Wednesday, two weeks after Michael’s death, Dean, Sam, and Eileen finally returned to the bunker.

“How's Ember, and the kid?” Dean asked when Castiel ran into him in the bunker kitchen.

Castiel shook his head. “Ember’s miserable, but she’s trying to put on a good show. And Jack… he says he’s good, but...” Castiel shook his head and sighed. “What about Sam?”

Dean shook his head. “He says he's fine,” Dean said. “But I think he’s full of crap.”

Sam poked his head into the room. “Found us a case,” he said. “Arkansas. Eileen’s gonna sit this one out, though. She says she’ll take over the phones.”

Dean looked shocked and annoyed. “We've just done three back-to-back Hunts. I need some rest. At least a night. We both do.”

“Yeah, well I'm leaving in ten,” Sam shot back, leaving the room.

“Like I said, not good,” Dean grumbled.

“Maybe I should go with him,” Castiel said. “Ember can come too. She mentioned a couple of days ago that a hunt might do her good. She can take clients remotely. Would you mind keeping an eye on Jack for a couple of days?”

Dean gave a noncommittal noise and a raised eyebrow.

“He’s struggling,” Castiel admitted. “We don’t know how much of his soul he burned off in that fight. And he looks up to you. And you’ve seen this before, remember?”

Dean sighed. “How could I forget? But I was - I was not great with Sam when he was…” Dean trailed off.

“But Jack's soul isn't completely gone,” Castiel said. “At least I don't think so. We just don't know how much is left. Just keep an eye on him for a couple of days, and then we’ll all meet back up and send everyone back to Apocalypse World.”

***Ember POV***

March 14

This hunt was definitely not like any hunt Ember had ever been on before. The town was very picturesque. It was called Charming Acres, and reminded Ember of Pleasantville. Everyone greeted each other brightly, and everyone was in a very good mood. And the milkshakes were _wonderful._

And the people were _happy_… they were _all happy…_

A man from Charming Acres called Conrad Martin had stepped into a gas station two days before, and his head had reportedly “went all Scanners.” They had had to remove the ceiling tiles at the gas station because they had been covered in bloody bits. 

By the end of the first day, however, the only thing Sam, Ember, and Castiel were able to discover was that Conrad had been receiving love letters from Sunny, a waitress at Harrington’s. Harrington’s was a popular local restaurant which made amazing milkshakes. While they were there, they had met the mayor, Chip Harrington. He acknowledged that the town was “a bit old-fashioned… people who live here – well, we take care of each other.” Still, by the end of the first day, there was nothing overly suspicious outside of the creepy “Pleasantville” feel of the town at large. 

Oddly, for the first time since she had arrived, Ember was in a decent mood. She really shouldn’t have waited two weeks to go on a hunt – this had obviously done her a world of good. She, Sam, and Castiel even joined the owner of the Inn, Ms. Dowling, for a pot roast dinner. And, for the first time in two weeks, she didn’t ask for Castiel’s help to put her to sleep…

Something was calling to her in her mind, a happy song. Maybe it was the pot roast, or the milkshakes, or how happy everyone was in this town… clearly everyone here understood something she didn’t. Just as she did every night, Ember kissed Castiel goodnight and closed her eyes. 

Just as she went to sleep, she had a brief notion that perhaps there was something odd about how happy she felt. Ember immediately silenced her doubts. For the first time since Michael’s death, she didn’t feel as though she was drowning in waves of depression. She could have this night of happiness in this odd town, perhaps, and tomorrow she would investigate it further. Then, for the first time since Michael’s death, Ember gave herself over to the song, and finally let herself be… happy…

***Castiel POV***

March 15

All was peaceful with Ember and Sam, so once they were asleep, Castiel popped in to check on Jack and Dean. He ended up having an unusually long conversation with Dean, then returned back to Charming Acres and hung out at the police station, invisible. That was how he found out about Mr. Smith. This death was the same as the one before – the man’s head had exploded, but Castiel could gather no clue as to how or why. 

By the time the policemen’s conversations ran cold, it was past time for him to return to Ember and Sam. 

When Castiel arrived in the room they’d rented the night before, he was shocked to see that Ember was gone. Sam was gone from his room as well, and neither of them were answering their phones. The owner of the inn, Mrs. Dowling, said that Sam and Ember had gone to get a milkshake, so Castiel decided to go back to the milkshake place, Harrington’s. However, nobody at Harrington’s knew where they were.

Castiel sighed and extended his angel powers until he could sense Ember. Sam was with her; he could sense both of them, though Ember’s demon (and angel) attraction powers drew him like a beacon. When he flew to her location, he was surprised to find that the address matched up with the one he’d been given for Mr. Smith, the man who had died the previous night. Perhaps Sam and Ember had awakened early and gotten a head start on the investigation then.

Castiel knocked on the door, only half-interested. 

Ember answered the door.

Castiel’s mouth dropped open. Ember was wearing a yellow floral dress that looked like something straight out of a 50’s catalog. Her hair was curled and put up into a bun, and she was wearing a sunny smile. An apron was tied around her waist.

“Oh! Agent!” said Ember. “I’m Cindy Smith. Please come in!”

“Ember,” Castiel said insistently. He almost tripped over his own feet as he came into the house. “What are you doing?”

“Well I was about to make martini’s!” Ember said, still smiling. “Would you like one?”

“Honey? Is something wrong?” said Sam’s voice.

Sam was wearing glasses, and his hair was pinned back to the back of his head. He wore slacks and sweater-vest, and also had a kind smile. “Oh, hi, there,” he said kindly. “Justin. Justin Smith. And you are?”

“Your partner!” Castiel hissed. “Ember! What’s going on? You don’t even like martinis!”

Ember and Sam gave each other a confused look. “Well, everyone likes a good martini, Agent…”

“Castiel!” Castiel exclaimed. “Your fiancé?”

Ember looked at Sam with slight fear in her eyes, and Castiel’s heart slid to his stomach.

Sam leaned over to Ember. “Cindy, why don’t you go grab the bread you baked last night? I think Agent Castiel might need something to help him sober up a bit.”

“I’m not drunk!” Castiel exclaimed desperately. “And you don’t bake!”

Ember turned back toward the kitchen, and Sam turned back to Castiel. “I think you may be confused,” he said firmly, “But I cannot allow you to talk to my wife like that.”

Panic fought its way to the surface, and Castiel stomped it back down. He changed tact. “Your name is Sam Winchester, and that’s Ember Nelson!” he said firmly. “Sam, I don't know what's happened. I don't know if this is a spell or a curse or -- or what's happened, but you will snap the hell out of it!”

“Sir, you watch your mouth,” Sam hissed, towering over him. “If we cannot remain civil, then you can skedaddle.”

“Sam –…” Castiel protested.

“That's not my name!” Sam said determinedly, putting his arm around Castiel and marching him toward the door. “Cindy, grab his hat!”

“I don't wear a hat!” Castiel yelled, frustrated.

“Honey, I don't think he wore a hat!” said Ember’s voice from the kitchen.

“Fine!” yelled Sam, depositing Castiel on his doorstep. “Sir, using language like, uh, ‘H-E-double hockey sticks’…” Sam waggled a finger at him. “You should have your mouth washed out with soap.”

“Sam --…” Castiel tried again.

“It's Justin!” said Sam, and he slammed the door in Castiel’s face.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Castiel immediately flew into Justin and Cindy Smith’s home, invisible. 

“What was wrong with him?” asked Ember, who was grabbing ingredients out of the cabinet.

“Just a little drunk,” said Sam, putting his hand on her shoulder comfortably. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Are you still planning on making the lasagna for dinner?”

“Sure!” said Ember happily. “I know it’s your favorite, sweetie.”

Castiel wanted to vomit. Screw this. He laid his hand on Ember’s shoulder and transported her back to the bunker.

“Agent!” Ember screamed. “What in tarnation-…”

Castiel kissed her. He thought briefly of when he was being mind controlled by Naomi, and Ember kissed him to snap him out of it.

Ember relaxed against him, her body going limp, and he released her, afraid of what he might find.

Ember blinked. “Cas… Castiel?”

He hugged her. “Ember.”

“What happened?” she asked. Then her face fell. Castiel could tell she had remembered Michael’s death. It looked like she was holding back tears.

“We have to go back,” Castiel told her firmly in an effort to distract her. “We have to get Sam out of there.”

“Won’t I be effected again?” she said softly. Castiel could tell that she half-hoped she _would_ fall under the spell of Charming Acres once again.

Castiel put his hand on her forehead, sending his angel powers into her mind. It was, as usual, the most wonderful feeling, but he had to stay focused. He found her experiences in Charming Acres, and knew immediately what had happened. The control felt very similar to a psychic he used to know named Fred…

“You were under the control of a very strong psychic,” he explained. “Avoid the oddly happy feelings this time…” He looked at her sadly. “I know you’ve been having a bad time of it lately but… Ember, that’s not real happiness. It’s false, and your mind will fight it if you don’t encourage it.”

Ember looked down guiltily.

“We’ll discuss it later,” Castiel said. “But just as your demon blood will resist the mind control on its own if you don’t invite it in, your mind also won’t allow this psychic to explode your brain.”

Ember nodded. “I can’t lose you again,” she whispered, “And I can’t lose Jack and Krissy.” She seemed to steel herself. “Okay.”

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

The psychic turned out to be Chip, the town mayor. His daughter, Sunny, was also a psychic, and she sided with Castiel and overpowered her father’s psychic control. 

Ember and Castiel flew home from Charming Acres as soon as the danger had abated, leaving Sam to tidy up. Ember began to cry the moment they reached their bedroom. “I’m sorry Cas,” she said. “I just… I wanted to… forget… for awhile.”

“I know,” said Castiel. “I know how upset you’ve been. But Ember, those deaths were _not your fault!”_

“I know that Cas,” Ember said. “That’s… that’s not the problem. I mean, it’s _part _of the problem, but… I just keep seeing them die, over and over and over again…” She steeled herself. “Can you erase the memories? Please? You’re well enough now. I want… I want them gone.”

Castiel sighed. “I can try. I’ll leave the knowledge of what happened and remove the memories. That’s… that’s what you want, correct?”

Ember sighed. “Yes.”

***Ember POV***

Inside Ember’s mind

The scene was frozen. Ember, possessed by Michael, stood over the dead bodies. Jackson and Trevor, hunched over the table, bleeding from the head. Nathan, Shauna, and Xu, lying near the stairs. Maggie, with her eyes burned out, lying dead on the floor, a scream frozen on her lips.

Ember – the Ember looking over the scene with Castiel – hid her face in his lapels.

_“I will erase this memory,” _Castiel told her. “_But only this one. And you will still have the knowledge of what happened.”_

Ember nodded into his shirt.

A few seconds went by. _“Is it working? It’s not working, is it?”_

A few more seconds went by. A horrible, sickening fear arose in Ember’s stomach.

Suddenly, Ember felt, than saw, the scene change. Ember peaked out from Castiel’s coat, and saw her normal “forest background.” It was the usual layout that Ember chose when exploring her mind with Castiel; an odd mix of the Amazon rainforest and Hobbiton, the hobbit town from “Lord of the Rings.”

Castiel sighed, pulling her onto a nearby bench. _“Ember, you’re resisting my powers. But it’s not the demonic nature of your mind, not anymore. It’s your soul.”_

Ember looked at him, surprised. _“But – that’s impossible! I don’t want to feel - …”_

Castiel raised his eyebrows. _“Do you think you deserve these memories?”_

Ember squirmed uncomfortably. _“I know it wasn’t my-…”_

_ “Your soul will call upon your natural resistance to shield your mind from my powers unless you truly want them erased,”_ Castiel said gently. _“And each time I try, all I feel is your guilt.”_

Ember sighed, looking at Castiel carefully. _“I said ‘yes’, Cas,”_ she whispered. _“I knew he would kill everyone, and I-…”_

The scenery changed again, this time to Ember’s memory of Michael’s proposition:_ “Then I’ll possess the red-headed witch. I can use her 300 years of magic, and burn your world even faster.”_

_ “You prayed to me,” _said Castiel. _“I couldn’t have come any faster. No one could have done more. Michael did what he did. And no choice that you made could have stopped those deaths. I truly believe this. But for me to erase these memories, you must forgive yourself.”_

The scene changed once again to the dead bodies, frozen. Ember shivered. She had done everything she could…

And then, the scene faded away into blackness.

***Castiel POV***

March 16

Castiel smiled to himself. Ember was asleep, and would probably sleep at least another day. Erasing those memories had been taxing on her mind, though he was sure it would leave no permanent damage. Her mind was now more peaceful than it had been since Michael’s death. 

Castiel stopped outside Jack’s door, hearing talking. He peered inside.

Jack was talking to his pet snake, the snake that used to belong to Noah the Gorgon. “Cas says you miss your friend,” Jack whispered to it. “You need help. Sam and Dean would help you, so -- so I'll help you. I'll help you see your friend again. In Heaven.”

As Castiel watched, horror-struck, Jack turned the snake to ash.

***Ember POV***

March 17

Ember felt weak. The memory removal had truly sapped her strength. Her head felt like lead, and she couldn’t wait to go back to sleep. It felt as though she hadn’t slept in weeks, not properly. 

Ember knew what Castiel had done, and she was glad she had asked him to do it. She remembered everything surrounding the memories of Michael’s death, all the way until she said “yes”, but the actual memories of her possession by Michael were gone. Without faces of the dead constantly on repeat in her mind, it was easier for Ember to understand that she couldn’t have done anything differently.

Now, she simply wanted to sleep. Unfortunately, she had made Castiel promise to awaken her to watch the individuals from Apocalypse World return. 

Charlie had been chosen to lead the expedition back into Apocalypse World. “There’s only room here for one of us,” she told Sam and Dean sadly. “And your world already has a Charlie.” She smiled. “I need to get back to my side. If I die here, on this side, I’ll never see the love of my life, Kara, again.”

Of the twenty survivors that had come through the rift from Apocalypse World (in addition to Charlie and Bobby), only thirteen were still living. Of those, eight wanted to return to Apocalypse World. Like Charlie, these eight had family that they wanted to see again, either still living or possibly in Heaven. Ember knew that Castiel also planned to send four of the souls that had died at Michael’s hand back to Apocalypse World as well, to be with their loved ones in their Heaven back home. 

There was a party (which Ember slept through half of) and laughter, and tears. Bobby sought her out shortly after she woke up. “Shame you can’t come with me,” he said casually, raising his eyebrows.

“Shame you can’t go back,” she said teasingly, but they both understood why it had to be this way.

“Probably only room for one of me in Heaven on this side,” Bobby said, smiling.

Ember laughed. “For what it’s worth, I’ll miss you,” she said.

“For what it’s worth,” he responded, “I’d’ve been proud to call you my daughter, demon or no.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Ember said, touched.

\---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---SPN---

Jack created a beautiful rift, stronger and brighter even than the one Lucifer and Rowena had created the previous year.

Charlie disappeared through the rift with a wave, and the other survivors after her. Ember was just getting drowsy when Jack said sternly, “Something’s wrong.”

“What?” Ember said groggily.

“Something’s fighting to get back through.”

“Is it one of the survivors?” asked Sam fearfully.

“I’m not sure,” said Jack. “Here, I’ll let-…”

Jack raised his hand, and the rift exploded.

One lone figure appeared in the bunker, and then the rift stuttered and disappeared.

Ember felt her mouth drop open. It was Ember… but it _wasn’t._

This version of Ember was covered from head to toe in dirt. She was skinny, almost emaciated. She wore a tanktop that might have once been a dress, and might have once been pink, but was now neither of those things. Her jeans were torn so that only one leg was covered, and the leg that was showing was covered in burns and ugly gashes. She was missing two fingers from her left hand. Her hair was pulled back close to her head and matted, and there were large bruises on her neck. 

Her eyes were yellow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the finale...   
Yeah. These days I'm as into Destiel as I am M/F, and...  
Yeah.   
Possibly doing a sequel to my other fic.  
Might be in progress.  
Whatever.


End file.
